A Hidden Sanctuary Poem by Nenia Arnaiz Dulom

It was a leisure morning walk,
On a cold and breezy August,
Autumn was dawning then,
It started to paint the surroundings.

My heart was pounding,
While I was panting,
When my feet wound up
On the foot of a mountain.

Hesitantly I thought of climbing,
Just to wander around exploring,
And surprise myself with the excitement,
Under the trees' dense awning.

On the top of the mountain
I found my safe haven,
It was a scenic rhythm,
Of mother nature's breathing.

I could see like through the eyes of an eagle,
The county's beautiful horizon,
On the bed of rock from where I stood,
I towered above the world.

Immediately at first sight,
My heart had fell in love,
To this elevated picturesque site,
Which beauty tempted me to climb.

Instantly I called it mine,
I marked the piece of land,
Without hesitation I claimed it my empire,
At once it became my hidden kingdom.

I played hide and seek with the squirrels,
Joined the melodious chirping of the birds,
Invited some strange insects as my guests,
And shared the food I packed for my lone picnic.

I captured the blissful moment,
Not only in my rapt mind
But in my captivated heart,
I translated my awe into vivid sketch.

Moods and tones,
Lines, shapes and forms,
All those wonderful colors
Of flora and fauna of all sort;

I depicted in character and figure,
Through seemingly animated expression,
The breathtaking backdropp helped me to,
My heart was throbbing with passion to draw.

The emotive and sentimental part to tell,
I recorded with my enthusiastic pen,
Into my expectant journal,
My words flowed like a free river.

Before my frolicking and merriment was over,
I completed three or more lyrics and poems,
Truly my heart and mind were in one pulse,
To work with my hand to stroke.

Both images and words
Described my feelings and thoughts,
In my pad, I remarkably note,
This lovely spot I found including all the proofs.

Today whenever I remember the place,
I can't help but read my poems and lyrics,
Which inspiringly I created,
Because of the secret site I discovered.

Surely next to reminiscence is homesickness,
Memories always wring my heart to shrink,
Tears flow when longing reach the ceiling,
Of the threshold point of my sensitive sense.

My paradise, my hidden garden,
On top of that mountain,
My heart and spirit remained,
With you then, now and forever.