| The Bluffs
The blue and glistening waves
that tumbled down
The rocky beach chanting their
thundering song.
Above, rough red faced cliffs
echo the sound.
A bird summons the evening shadows
long
Nestling in whispering trees.
The waving grass,
Dry and golden from the sun's
fiery rage,
Dances with gusts of wind that
gently pass.
Time moves on, but the meadow
has no age.
She sits patiently spreading her
sweet grace.
The sun descends into the deep
blue sea.
And to the world a pretty simple
place,
A place to walk, a place to simply
be.
And Man should never touch her
tender sleep,
And her eternal beauty I pray
she'll keep.
Grace
Jackson '97
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