WHITE MOUNTAINS


  They stand so high, above water, so cold and Icy,


  Layered with white, powdery snow, stretched for 
  Miles.

  Clouds rest over this land of Winter, and such a 
  Quiet peace,

  Although the wind blows across the chilly water,
  And  Lonely mountain tops.

 There are slopes of wet snow, that melt and flow 
  Down into a lake,

  That when the sun shines on it, sparkles like 
  Shiny glass,

  Icicles hang from ridges, that have lived for 
  Some time.

  Formed over centuries and in times mind.


  Beautiful mountains, these white mountains.


                            Keith Garrett