Mystic Hill

Sitting on the cushion-like grass

I fix my eyes upon a hill not far distant

Wrapped by the envelope of sparse fog in the dusk

Orange skies turning into maroon

This highland must be a secluded mystic part of the Earth

It is not singular but a range of hills I gaze at

There must be something mysterious about it

A valley, an enchanting one, perhaps the valley of death

There is soothing silence amidst the noisy rust

Broken abrupt by the fleeting murder of crows

Being chased away by the mighty eagle

Remnants of once fleecy clouds, stagnant in the sky

Cold winds ruffle every strand of grass as it sweeps

That one hillside plateau with the rest submerging by it

Turning the roseate contrast of Nature pale

A non-existent shade of every colour lost into oblivion

The Paradise of Nature

I stand there by the cold hillside

Where Nature in its purest form does reside

Clear orange skies covered with fleecy clouds

This part of Nature is far away from any crowds

Lush green grasses surround the mountains that reach the sky

Birds sing sweet lullabies and fly high

Little bunnies and deer peacefully feed

It is God who providently caters to their needs

The tall trees give off a fantasy vibe

The depths of Nature are impossible to describe

The sweet scent of flowers and fresh air give an amazing sensation

There is perhaps no end to God's this wonderful creation

These enchanting valleys full of flora enrich the earth

The charming and beautiful scenery provides me mirth

The sight of the sunset makes me smile

The scenic views make everything around worthwhile

I keep wandering about in this grand treasure

The beauty of Nature drives me here with pleasure

Gazing at the sky I see Heaven's reflection

God has created Nature in a way of absolute perfection