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.