Hikes Poem by david lessard

Out here, the sun is so much brighter,
The views are sharper, much more clear;
The load is not so heavy, much more lighter,
Out here, there's nothing but God to fear.

Climbing ever higher, the sky is brilliant blue,
The path is winding upward, a bit too rough;
But the air, it smells of perfume, it is true,
and though the trail is hard, your heart is tough.

The mountain calls to you, to climb up to the top,
The morning ls still and cool, not too hot or cold;
The aches in the knees are gone; you don't want to stop,
The views are great from the summit, so you've been told.

And they were right, the valley's mist's a postcard's dream,
The pinnacle has been reached, you feel good and strong;
The clouds above are lovely, pitchers filled with cream,
You start the swift descent, you break out in a song.

A song filled with pleasure, a song of bounding joy,
Your steps are light and bouyant, full of endless pep;
Your not an old man anymore, your a youngish boy,
And like the days of early youth, you need not watch your step.

There's magic in a mountain,
treasure in those hikes,
There's a beauty nowhere else I know;
It's at the top of my lists of likes,
And I find a solace each time I go