Buttercups On The Hill Poem by Amar Agarwala

They carpet the hillock green
Gay florets by nature spun,
A mass of mystic yellow
Beckoning a Tuscan sun.

They reach out to waters blue
Frothy waves kissing the shore,
Gulls squawking in ecstasy
Regaling an old folklore.

They nod and prance in the breeze
And play with the herds daylong,
Bequeath their fragrant splendour
Revel in the shepherd's song.

Their hues then turn to golden
With a mahogany sky,
Listening to the crickets
Singing them a lullaby.
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