I walk alone, the cactus blooms, the grass grows green <br /> Along the stream the tree limbs bend from winds that blow <br /> Around my feet the flowers bloom like in a gardener's dream <br /> The falling leaves float by with the waters gentle flow <br /> And there upon the hill the oak still stands <br /> With broken limbs and hollow scars that come from age <br /> Has memory of two lovers holding hands <br /> As they sit upon the hill among the flowers and the sage <br /> Though the sage and flowers' fragrance are the same <br /> And the little stream flows gently as before <br /> A memory still lingers of when two lovers came <br /> To this little hill where love can be no more <br /> And there upon the same old hill I sit to dream <br /> Of the smiling eyes that sparkle like the dew <br /> A tear rolls down my cheek but does not seem <br /> To spoil the thoughts of love that I once knew <br /> Like that old oak tree my limbs are withered now <br /> And like the oak the scars remain there still <br /> It seems that Mother Nature's charm somehow <br /> Still keeps alive the love on lover's hill<br /><br />James Francis Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lover-s-hill/
