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A gentle ripple spreading wider
Belies the beaver's power;
A floating head no less deceptive
Than tip of berg much lower.
You may not see the stoutish body
Nor glimpse the tail so flattened;
Submerged they move with slightest hinting
At ponding works emboldened.
The pond established owes its being
To person small but awesome:
The beaver cleaver—mighty builder,
With industry most fulsome.
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Aspen temple, hall of mysteries,
Hidden deep in forest high,
Ever share your calm and beauty,
Filtered down to hikers nigh.
Golden light through leaves now yellow
Shifting walls approximate.
Trunks uplifting point to heaven,
Natural columns bearing weight.
Limestone white these structures rising,
Barks expressing purity.
Sequin-like the leaves do whisper;
Secrets given silently.
Joists reside beneath the surface,
Joints and junctions, like a roof.
Upside-down this glorious building,
Oneness there—a living proof.
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Virginia Creeper, genius creature,
Painting walls with endless brush;
The verdant hues in spring and summer
Crimson turn in Autumn's rush.
The fences graced with natural bunting
Beam their thanks beneath the red;
Tall pines alike are decorated;
Christmas trees alive instead.
All peaks are scaled, no slope too daunting,
Steepness met like cheering light!
Self-engineered with pads adhesive,
Super-plant, it conquers height.