Lover's Hill Poem by James Francis Taylor

I walk alone, the cactus blooms, the grass grows green
Along the stream the tree limbs bend from winds that blow
Around my feet the flowers bloom like in a gardener's dream
The falling leaves float by with the waters gentle flow
And there upon the hill the oak still stands
With broken limbs and hollow scars that come from age
Has memory of two lovers holding hands
As they sit upon the hill among the flowers and the sage
Though the sage and flowers' fragrance are the same
And the little stream flows gently as before
A memory still lingers of when two lovers came
To this little hill where love can be no more
And there upon the same old hill I sit to dream
Of the smiling eyes that sparkle like the dew
A tear rolls down my cheek but does not seem
To spoil the thoughts of love that I once knew
Like that old oak tree my limbs are withered now
And like the oak the scars remain there still
It seems that Mother Nature's charm somehow
Still keeps alive the love on lover's hill