The Woodlands Sing

by Dorinda Duclos

I sat upon the mountain top
Gazing down on the earth below
Basking in all the wonders of life
With the sun in the sky, aglow

A gentle breeze blew slowly past
Like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings
Turning my face toward its gentle caress
I could hear the woodlands sing

Their song, the sound of angel harps
Each chord, a gossamer string
Melodies fly on the wisp of a cloud
With the beauty of all God’s things

©2015 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved

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