Living under the Hill

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  • Nature

    Poem Commentary

    thoughts on the hill were I live its so beautiful

    Living under the Hill

    Under the shadow of the hill
    I have lived long and still
    Dark and old a beauty to behold
    Many a memory I have made 
    In the sun an in its shade
    Many a year has passed me by
    As I watched the young ones
    grow and say goodbye
    Happy times memories one and all
    To tell my children when I recall
    Beautiful mountains very high
    Living in your shadow I will die
    But you go on for ever it seems
    As I leave my memories in your 
    caves of dreams
    Future generations will live on 
    They will climb high and look beyond 
    Blue skies sometimes grey
    Will be there for ever and a day

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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