The spring water on the hill meandered its way
Amid the rocks, grass, and fern.
A compassionate man considered it as a potential site
Where exhausted hikers might turn.
He walled in the spring and hung with care
A dipper at the brink.
He thought not of the deed he did,
But that all hikers might rest and drink.
He checked the site often, and the spring,
By the end of summer never dried,
Had quenched the thirst of many parching tongues
And became a haven for the weary and the tired.
The thought was small, but the deed great,
To all those who ventured to the spring on the hill.
A simple fancy of the brain - a welcomed site,
And appreciated by all the hikers still.
Amid the rocks, grass, and fern.
A compassionate man considered it as a potential site
Where exhausted hikers might turn.
He walled in the spring and hung with care
A dipper at the brink.
He thought not of the deed he did,
But that all hikers might rest and drink.
He checked the site often, and the spring,
By the end of summer never dried,
Had quenched the thirst of many parching tongues
And became a haven for the weary and the tired.
The thought was small, but the deed great,
To all those who ventured to the spring on the hill.
A simple fancy of the brain - a welcomed site,
And appreciated by all the hikers still.
Joseph T. Renaldi
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