Behold the sweeping valleys
Where the heathered slopes do lie,
With rugged peaks that reach
Unto the ever-changing sky,
Where Snowdon stands before me now
As clouds begin to break,
Llanberis still the morning light
Now rests upon the lake.
I climb the path before me
That is strewn by rock and stone,
As the summit shrouded by the mist
Does proudly stand alone,
I pause for just a moment there
To look across the way,
As colours of September rise
To bless this holy day.
The shadows lift through darkness
As the sun begins to shine,
And valleys dressed in violet veils
Then meet the emerald pine,
Its peacefulness befalls me
As I breathe the mountain air,
And gaze with deepest awe upon
This land beyond compare.
ANDREW BLAKEMORE
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/snowdonia/
