The morning sun's entrance is at hand
It warms and shines every leaf it lands
An eager sparrow is fluttering down all a midst
His hungry fellows which of whom are too many to list
The dew drops glistening in the morning West Virginia mist
They drip down off their lofty perch to the ground to nourish the earth that births them
The hills reach endlessly towards the sky
Bathed in a caucophany of autum colors too vivid for the even the most discerning of eyes
Their slopes though rocky, jagged, and steep
Mountaineers will easily navigate to the peeks

Who would have thought that such struggles had been wrought within their majesty's depths
Rocks of onyx black enticed man's greed
To fulfill the lust for countries growing needs
Machinery of cast iron wrought was bought
To extract a kings ransome from our mother
Numerous lives have been lost all for nought
To line the pockets of their daunted leaders
Widows tears will fill the rivers with their fears of their sons that were lost in the struggle

There is quiet now the winds are awakened
Make no mistake mother nature will take back what belongs to her.
Do you not hear her speak or are you still asleep to know the tone in which she renders.
"Man's greed can never suceed no matter the need to take what belongs to the mountains of West Virginia."
© Peter Gunn