Drizzly Daydreams

When Smokey Mountain mists
Fill the hollow with the sound
Of quiet rains on hallowed ground,



And the banks of springs
Themselves have found
That their bounty spills all around,




And roses heavy with drops
Of more than dew
Bend their sweetness toward the ground,




Then the darling of the sunlight
Has sought her muse
And surely cannot be found.