The rain-washed grass glistened
In the pale morning sun;
The dew drops scintillated
Sending radiance through their prisms.
The road serpentined along the banks
Of the curvy Mohawk river
Which washed the foot rests of the bills
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.