The Sun on the West Virginia Hills
Autumn basks under the Golden Shower Tree
Paddling softly over its flowery bed below,
Away from crazy jazz of the perfumed night
Mild sweet scent scatters the fragrance of soul.
The fragile weathered leaves on the ground
Produce rustling music that in bliss abounds,
The light brown leaves reflect the radiant light
All is well packed in your poetic brilliance bright.
Setting sun behind the West Virginia Hills
Sounds the bugle of a new morn tomorrow,
The Buddha’s Banyan Tree still stands erect
To enlighten many more minds san sorrow.
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