Veiled In Her Mist

She’s lovely, Emei, veiled in her mist
How fair the trees and her temples are
Can one in reality of this resist
But to gaze on her beauty, a vision far

Serene and calm we call her this
She is, of course, but much more
The birds sing of her morning mist
Her breeze blows into my open door

I watch the clouds as they float on by
Drinking her tea as I sit on her side
Puffy white cotton against the blue sky
The tea, Snow Bud green, Emei’s pride

I sense the green of her rich emerald gown
Bedecked with her pagoda and temple jewels
No beauty exceeds with her Jinding crown
Of bronze bright light shining on jade pools