The old granite quarry where
Boulders the size of elephants
Grazed in herds on red clay and sand.
Beached whales washed up on the shore
Of the lake-filled canyon formed unexpectedly
From an underground spring.
Crystalline water as pure as the dew drops
Affording a view of the bottomless pond.
Formidable and invitingly clear,
Cool and refreshing from summertime's heat.
Hovering battlements tall as the tree tops
Surrounding three sides with lake castle walls.
A child might imagine the parapets riding the crest
With cannon and catapult ready to fire.
The old stone quarry, deserted now.
How many stories do you have to tell?
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