the mountains majestic in all their barren glory,
even the mountain stripped clear for timber,
looking like a young boy's crooked, cropped new hair cut,
the sky achingly blue against the gray of lonely trees.
my mountains once blue, are now aching gray,
waiting for spring. only the pine remains in
scattered clumps, clinging to the hilly crests.
wispy clouds skirting over the ridge.
I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving and I pray that this December will be a peaceful and restful once as we are reminded again of Jesus' love for us. He is coming!