The Summit Song

On the verge of Colorado's plain,
    Where the mountains reach the skies.
Near the springs of Manatee's domain
    There the Summit stately lies.
Neither time worn words from tongues of men
    Rightly mark it's beauty fair:
Nor the sage reports by ink and pen
    May depict its splendor there.

In the Summit's ageless entity
    Lies an ever growing cleft
'twixt our Bible based morality,
    And the dredges of the left.
Through the darkened world of endless space
    Shines an all pervading light
Of the Summit's store of glowing grace
    That repels the shades of night.

Though it's walls are old and worn through out,
    Yet they still reflect the din
Of the youthful voices heard without,
    And the tuneful sounds within.
Many words arise from every part
    Which are heard from day to day,
But the voice that echoes from the heart
    Can the Summit best portray.