"Grand Lake of the Cherokees"

Came down from a country road

Through the bush and stones

Far away there was a boat

Colors almost roan

Heard a simple melody

Was the wind and waves

Stories of old tragedy

And old winter caves

Then my eyes traveled the lake

But my heart stood still

Something broke and it got late

I climbed back the hill

For a last time I looked back

Where a warrior might have stood

There is so much that I lack

Many things are gone for good

Saw them squirrels, saw them bees

Moving free in harmony

Dancing flowers, shadow trees

Grand Lake of the Cherokees

By Edward Rosenthal of Cochabamba, Bolivia (South America)

     
"I was born in Germany, but studied "TV  & Video" in Bolivia. I've done music, composition, documentary, and poetry and I am writing some books currently.  Once I made a second prize in a short film contest."