The rain-washed grass glistened

In the pale morning sun;

The dew drops scintillated

Sending radiance through prisms.

The road serpentined along the banks

Of the  curvy Mohawk river

Which washed the foot rests of the hills

And mountains of the Adirondacks.

The lambant light of the early sun

Shone on the green-fisted valley

And the greens danced in varied vestitures

Starting with nature’s first green of gold

Sprinkled on mint greens and lime greens

Of the newly sprouted leaves

While the dark green of the conifers

Stood sentry to the vista of the Valley

And smudged into the crowns of distant peaks.

The river flows in an  arabesque

Of lines of movement and placid reverie,

Sluiced by the water gushing from open locks.

The reflected greens and shadows

Is a palette of varied values.

A paean of joy rose up in my breast

To exalt this feast of green glory and sunshine,

Full of promises to be fulfilled.