Lord of The Mountains

Your Mighty Power moulded them
And sculpted summits high
Which tower up majestically,
Soaring toward the sky.

The imprint of Your fingers show
In clefts and valleys deep,
While precipice's cloven sides
Rise sharp and sheer and steep.

White clouds appear mischievously
Oer a silhouetted peak
As breezes chase each other,
Playing constant hide and seek.

I stand in awe and wonderment
At the Power of Your Hand,
Marvelling at Your artistry,
Lord of the Mountains grand!

Honoria A. Groves

April 28, 2002