Meadows Of Gold Poem by Airda Jones

Meadows of gold to the eye
Grown to wild nature, glow
With glimmer that knows
No shine greater to I

Deep, rich, dark
Burrowing depths that threaten
To overwhelm and blend
To singe their powerful mark

Stained glass of metallics
Bruised with cool shades
Lingering unfitting paints fade
An optimal optical illusion of tricks

Gold of a thousand worths
Copper and silver must bow
And I must claim somehow
Yet not even equal to my words.