Hereís a toast to Long Ridge

The mountain of my home,

Where in days of childhood

Through her woods I used to roam.

I knew all of her secrets,

Where wild berries could be found

And all her hidden springs

That gushed up through the ground.

I marveled at her mystery,

Of all the wonders I found there,

Of toad stools and spider webs,

The  fragrance of blossoms in the air.

I wandered through her fields of gold

When Dandelions were in bloom,

But alas; poor Long Ridge,

By the hands of men, met her doom.

Sheís gone now; that mountain of my home.

All that remains is a gravel pit,

For man in his greed saw only

His pockets to benefit.

I know they call it progress,

I know the world will change

But why must we destroy Gods beauty

For mere mortals gains.

It saddens me when I think of it

And cuts me to the core,

To know  her beautiful secrets,

By children, will be seen no more.

They will never know the magic

Of sunlight filtering through her trees,

Of butterflies dancing in the light,

Or a feather adrift in the breeze.

But in my heart her beauty remains

When I recall the days of old,

How as a child I knew her well

And thatís why her story Iíve told.

The days of my youth are precious

When I wandered so care free

Through the woods of Long Ridge,

And in my heart, I believe that she knew me.

©Lora Cox


Thank you my dear Lin

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