In my travels, I found a place,
Without a name, without a face,
An aspen grove of golden leaves,
Mantled by the gloomy eve.
Voices will crackle with the breeze,
The air will spark with memories,
No rain, no sun, no storm nor snow,
The seasons here won't come and go.
Your reigning songs won't grow and fade,
The dusk won't fall in darker shades,
The fields are forever crowned with gold,
Stories here will remain untold.
When I left that aspen grove,
To sail the seas and roam the coves,
That untamed wold remained unchanged
Unhailed, unknown, forever unnamed.
The image used is my own work. Here is the proof:
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