ROLLING HILLS
Oh yea I see those rolling hills
Pickets white and crossbeams gold
In fields I lay in dreams of you
Whilst summer breeze blows over me.
Oh yea I see those rolling hills
and ponds and creeks and daffodils.
White rabbit spurs the cattle’s cry,
in fright they scurry after night.
Outdoor grill my meals and cook
my coffee in the sun or in the rain
and drink from tin cups cleansed
in stream flows through the place.
Oh yea be there rolling hills
not in my dreams but in the now
when comes the morn I wake in scent
of meadow grasses lime and gold.
Oh yea come get me rolling hills
now, not later in my years whilst
still I live and breathe His gifts,
fulfill me now and breathe fresh life.
Oh yea you rolling hills
I beg you find me while my lust
yet rages, burns within me, will not quiet ‘til
the day your hilltop hammock sways me free.