Writing
Deep Creekby Ironhand
There is a valley below
Where crystal waters flow
It swirls and falls
Sounds of nature call
Majestic pines and willows grow
Mountain air and cool winds blow
And the Gray Squirrels chatter
As if conversation didn’t matter
There are butterflies too, flittering to and fro
In the place where giant pines cones grow
I will bring you one to let to show
From the edge of where the cool waters go
And trout flash the sun light
As they turn and seek the shadows night
In the waters cool
In the valley low
This place I’d show you
You’d like to know