Swooping gradients, hairpin bends The sun in gold softly descends Heavens painted in crimson hues Evening birds darting through Cypresses swing in welcome mists, Gentle breezes sigh and hiss I cast my eyes on beauteous scene With pleasant vales, villages between Down the hills blink the city lights Like glowworms in the balmy night A starry plane far beneath me As I look down the scary lee
A lively spot on the peaks there To seek solace in ambiance fair Whiffs of scents on the evening breeze Melodies sweet soothe n appease Merry voices, tinkling trails Reverberating along the vales, Winds blow soft, kiss the flowers Teasing gently the tresses sans care Down in the valley a hut stands, Humans or ghosts on dreary lands? A faint light in the gloom of night Down at the bottom, a haunting sight Yet, on the crests life thrills n thrives The hills are alive! The hills are alive!
To be in love. Her heart was a hill that I climbed with slippery soles. To be still in the moments of encouragement. I’d slide down unable to catch my footing. I acknowledge that I wasn’t dressed for the occasion.
Sometimes, I just want to fly away and sit by a coast dotted with tiny creeks and gaze at the pebbles sleeping peacefully at the bottom of the stream while drenching my feet in water as pure as an infant.
You were born, you’ll be going to die, no doubt! Live the never-ending, everlasting life, escape from death’s mouth. When you were born, the world celebrat’d and you cried. Live the life in such a way, That world should cry