A Birdseye's View.

The rooftops of Italia’s Alps stand neatly in a row
And down below a river flows by a road that no-one knows,
Puffs of cloud look just like smoke as though the sky’s on fire,
They nestle upon these alpine peaks, growing ever higher.
A deep crevasse between cold, sharp peaks, where the sun will never kiss,
Blackness dwells and looks like Hell in this bottomless abyss.
A purple haze is nature’s veil just hanging in the sky
And jutting through’s a jagged ridge, dusted down with ice.
The road that led to nowhere, where no-one ever goes
Just disappeared into the black to where the river flows.
Nothing’s left, no life, no sound just the rustling of the breeze
As the winds caress this rugged land, whistling in the trees.

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Manonton Dalan 10 February 2013

very nice i like it very much

0 0 Reply
Rachel Butler 26 October 2011

'Nothing’s left, no life, no sound just the rustling of the breeze' RAB

0 1 Reply
Adeline Foster 23 October 2011

What a lovely description of a quiet world. You may enjoy mine - Wide Open Spaces - Adeline

0 1 Reply