Pure Gold (Poetry)

Up here the air is pure, the view is clear
and wildness has a hold on cliff and scree,
no sign of man — no road or footpath near —
just nature unreserved and blemish-free.

This sunset is pure gold and undefiled
by toxins from the city’s banded sky,
no artificial colours, rain is mild
and non-acidic — here the trees stand high,

untroubled by the axe or chainsaw’s whine.
There are no roofs or spires that shoulder through,
this little patch of Eden’s near-sublime —
a corner still unspoiled beneath the blue

of far horizons where the eagle skims
those edges where the tall crags touch the light —
the spirit born of freedom finds its wings,
soaring like a vision, angel-bright.

A sudden joy then surges through the mind
and soothes the soul — all worldly cares depart
as weary flesh revives and nerves unwind
when peace floods in to purify the heart.