Stunning Artistes: The Hills

The golden morrow illuminates thy skin,

Dripping each dewdrop to bathe thy essentials,

Thy fragrance comes from the mysterious flora,

Thou need nothing unnatural to sew thy gabardine.

Each passing moment show unnoticed colors

Once I saw thee in gloomy but drizzling rain,

Dance of weakest storm ignites thy passion,

I saw thee surrendering to the majestic minstrel,

Unmasking thou art bit by bit to propel.

There were times I saw thee under torturing heat,

Thou left canopied armies to cover thy face,

The silvery balm came in the dark for thee,

Only to heal thy scars, to restore thy grace.

Thee preformed from ages and ages are there to come,

My admiration with passing moment will too get old,

Still thee dances, sings and acts, still I see the announcing drum,

After I rest, may souls like me never let thy tale remain untold.