Dreamland

Somewhere,high up in the mountains,where the wind blows freeand frolics teasinglywith the huge pine treewhere the sky is always clearbut for when the clouds rolland they hang down so nearthat the gray takes over the blueand yet one wonders,who painted this hue?There,high up in the mountains,where clear streams runand tinkle and sprinkletheir ware with so much fun,where the many butterflies flydancing with great abundance,naughty and yet shy!Here,high up in the mountains,where the world is so purea small hut is all I want,yes, I am so sure.In the midst of this green,living would be a blissno empty smiles to give,no hatred, malice or airborne kiss.Solitude for company,through moods happy and sadpeace will reign.where all seasons would be beautiful -bright summer and misty rain.
cant recall the name of the author................