*these Green Hills (School Assignment 8th) Poem by Jane Meyer

<font color=darkviolet>6: 30 am
I’m perched among the branches
of the old oak tree.
Through its drooping limbs
I see a beautiful scene,
For beyond the whispering leaves,
I see the green hills rolling;
the cliffs off in the distance.
And past their tops I see,
a sky with orange tint,
marking the sun’s arrival.

6: 45 am
The glowing yellow orb
is now visible in its trek
through the pastel-colored sky.
Looking to the cliffs, I see
the sun begin to peek
over the tops of their bald heads.
The warm, golden light
illuminates the dew,
sparkling in the grass.
My breath catches in my throat,
as I watch a world unfold before me.
I can feel the magic,
pulsing through the land.
See it woven between every thread.
As I gaze upon this wondrous beauty,
a part of me is lost,
carried off by the wind.
For now I have no cares,
only the blissful joy I get
from seeing this world come to life.

7: 00 am
The sun is now aloft,
fully in the sky.
I turn my head away,
For the light’s too bright for me.
I fix my eyes
upon the ground,
admiring, all that’s there,
in the last few moments,
I’m able to spare.
Those moments pass
oh so quickly.
And I begin my climb,
down the faithful oak.
Once my feet
are on the ground,
I turn my back
to that secret world.
I can feel the magic,
as it slips away.
All too soon,
my departure’s come.
The sun is up;
a new day’s begun.
But I’ll come back,
I will, I will.
I’ll come back
to these green hills.