The Blue Ridge laundry hung along the sky Beyond the highway's disappearing end Hums lazy longing songs of by-and-by, The road, too busy, off around the bend ...
The heavy sky wore mountain sawteeth dull So long ago; the nubbins that remain Can scarce impede the clouds that boatlike scull Along the ridge above the valley rain.
The mountains must remember in their dreams Those ancient granite days of grand display, When caped in snow and bumping heaven's beams Their brooding crags looked down upon the day;
Now crossed with track and trail of bear and coon They see both what will come and what is past And sleep the endless sleep of rain and moon Until the hills are ground to sand at last.
4 comments:
I guess we can now see where the name "blue ridge mountains" came from. Great shot!
Lord, how I love those mountains.
A good subject for a poem.
Blue Ridge
The Blue Ridge laundry hung along the sky
Beyond the highway's disappearing end
Hums lazy longing songs of by-and-by,
The road, too busy, off around the bend ...
The heavy sky wore mountain sawteeth dull
So long ago; the nubbins that remain
Can scarce impede the clouds that boatlike scull
Along the ridge above the valley rain.
The mountains must remember in their dreams
Those ancient granite days of grand display,
When caped in snow and bumping heaven's beams
Their brooding crags looked down upon the day;
Now crossed with track and trail of bear and coon
They see both what will come and what is past
And sleep the endless sleep of rain and moon
Until the hills are ground to sand at last.
© 2006 Jeffrey Hull
I love this picture.
It reminds me of home.
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