As mountains go, I am not large,

I do not tower in majesty

and seldom does a cloak of snow

adorn my rocky weathered back.

But I am loved by many men,

not just the few who can afford

the luxury of living on

a hill that overlooks the sea.

 

No, most of those who visit me

come there from homes I see afar

and holding hands in awe they watch

the orange sunset, paint the sky.

And when on special holidays

the sky is lit  with fireworks

they throng to sit upon my top

to ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’ the sparkling show.

 

Or as the moon glides into sight,

to gladden lovers sitting close.

I listen to their whispered love

and wish them well in future years.

Please do not sell me to a few

when there are those who use me well.

But wisely keep me as a park

And gain the love of many men

 

 

David Garlick, Victoria, 1987