These mountains lye as blankets,

protectors from the world,

Her trees hang as mothering arms,

within them I am curled,

The sweet scent of her winds,

Ensures th freshness of the years,

The solitude within her realms,

offers serenity to my fears,

The green which paints her rolling hills,

is all, Iv'e tried to leave behind,

The brilliance in her colors,

offers hope, Of what I am to find.