So gentle the sound of the wind in the treetops, <br />Carry me far through the seasons ahead, <br />That are awaiting the autumn annd winter, <br />The cold of the snowfalls and sunsets of red. <br />I belong to this precious land <br />Its green majestic hills, <br />Which rise above me far and wide <br />And try to touch the sky. <br /> <br />So gentle the voice that is calling me onward, <br />To find and discover what's hidden to me, <br />I feel such pleasure at home in surroundings, <br />So rich is the beauty its wonders to see. <br />I belong to this precious land <br />Its fields and pastures grow, <br />And stretch before me far and wide <br />To where its treasures lie. <br /> <br />So gentle the stream as it flows down the valley, <br />Winding meanders through boulder and stone, <br />So pure are its waters the soul of the country, <br />And while it is with me I'm never alone. <br />I belong to this precious land <br />And all its scenery, <br />Its glories reach so far and wide <br />And they shall never die.<br /><br />ANDREW BLAKEMORE<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/so-gentle/
