I would like to pass on this fantastic poem passed on to me from a friend and avid Smoky Mountain Hiker. Enjoy!
Mollie’s Butt
In the far-off Smoky Mountains,
Where the black bear makes his home
There’s a crag called Charlie’s Bunion
And a peak called Clingman’s Dome
But the spot that takes my fancy
And it’s there I’d build my hut
Is a shapely little hillock
That is known as Mollie’s Butt.
There it stands in storm and sunshine
While the changing seasons pass
Named, no doubt in tender tribute,
To some pink-cheeked mountain lass.
There is found the ripest berry,
There is found the sweetest nut
And the setting sun grows crimson
As it kisses Mollie’s Butt.
You may scale the high Himalayas
Braving Everest’s icy scorn,
You make sink your iron pitons
In Mount Blanc or Matterhorn,
But when I go a-mountaineering
I’ll forsake that common rut,
For I’m heading for the Smokies
With my eyes on Mollie’s Butt.
Found in file Washington County Jonesboro Library, early spring 1970, author Paul Fisk(?)

Sand Myrtle On Mt. LeConte, 5/10