Oh majestic peaks,
standing so tall,
the points never meager,
uplifting like the beautiful dowager.
The greenery covers,
like a flock of plovers,
and a blanket of fibrous wicker,
near the rocky slopes that flicker.
The sunlight is poking through,
and a wall of clouds of suspended dew,
a stand of conifers abridged,
growing across the green mountain ridge.
Oh Green Mountain, so rich in seeds and nuts,
like the early bakers torte,
your cool mountain streams,
cleanse thy body and make me gleam.
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