The Blue Ridge
Poem by Harriet Monroe.In purple robes of kings,
The low-lying mountains sleep at the edge of the world.
The forests cover them like mantles;
Day and night
Rise and fall over them like the wash of waves.
Asleep, they reign.
Silent, they say all.
Hush me, O slumbering mountains –
Send me dreams.
Harriet Monroe
December 23, 1860 – September 26, 19362025
Photographs by Jack Kost.
Forest wind and birds
by freesound_community
from Pixabay.