Regal Monarches


Tall and regal. thick they stand,
Monarches of the forest;
Guardians of the mountain-land,
They sing with the wind's soft chorus

They shake their needled fingers
Sprinkling rain upon my head,
As I walk on their fallen winters
Of past years, long dead.

They bend and sway above me;
Telling their whispered woes;
Murmuring of the redskins soft feet;
As they stalked the buffaloes.

Snow of many centuries
Has covered well their roots;
No grass can be seen
No owls will give their hoots.

I lean against the tree trunk rough,
I hear the Druid call,,,
I feel the mystic mountain gruff:
The world is lost in the silence tall.

Tall and regal; thick they stand,
The world is lost in the silence tall......