by Maggie Johnson, age 13, Thousand Oaks, CA
Lift your eyes and behold the mountain’s beauty
Ever changing though the season
The colors of the mountain remind you of something fruity
Snow on the mountains in the winter is the reason
For a visit and in early spring the snow begins to melt
But the caps of the tallest stay white, as if powdered sugar was dusted on
As spring goes on, swells of flowers bloom, here and there as soft as fine felt
Once again trees begin to grow and wild beauties, most unlike your lawn
Summer comes around and yet more green grows
Ever darkening to new shades
Life and movement all around, like the flurry of violinists’ bows
Autumn comes and leaves fall, the wind brushes them aside like maids
Winter is coming once again and the animals are prepared
Another year has come and gone, and the mountain’s story has been shared
