Cobbled streets, hillsides steep, a mountain town is up or down!
Pouring rain, leaping gutters, rushing waters clean this town.
Vultures soar, wind sweeps clouds, from the heights the mundane shrinks in size.
Birds that sing, trees that bow, life’s exuberance wakens me to rise.
History steeped; buildings speak – of times before technology.
Cathedral rises, old claims shout, grating new realities.
Saint’s procession, draws the dancers, gaining promised hope’s deliverance.
Exhaustion reigns, pain’s endured, while freedom’s gift lies in abeyance.
Fireworks boom, fiesta laughs, as families spend the day in song.
Evening strolls, hands held dear, couples avoiding summer’s throng,
Child’s laughter, safety’s theme, village shouts we have this in common.
Quiet listens, bird chirp ends, dreams appear when normal is forgotten.
Peace is real, hope is shared, when faith is seen in eyes that shine.
Pain departs, startle’s real, when spirit’s roar draws a line.
Something felt, change that’s seen, creates a contrast with dogma’s creed.
Sweetly still, enjoying life, promotion’s grace stirs mountain souls to lead.
Author – Bill Tidsbury