Some high...sweet strain...of melody I hear...like it's given...to a man...who has...a precious gift to bear...it has opened...up a path...that this son...can take...at last...can walk along...to find his father's place...
And there's... a sweet scent... of heaven...to the words...from a mountain top...the music's...slowly moving toward...I can feel it...in my heart...like some...ever living part...that's a dear...and tender place...in me...to rest...
cause...a simple mountain melody...plays through...my mind...on a breeze...between the trees...these lines of lyric came...as water...to my soul...these poetry's unroll...just like...pretty flowers waving...in the meadow grass...
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2015
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