Peaks that touch the sky,
trees give dimention to otherwise flat hills.
The scent of pine tingles in my nose.
A waterfall spills into a pool at my feet,
small fish swimin slow circles.
Crystal rocks glitter at the bottom.
We played here as children,
following paths that never end.
Our imaginations leading us endless places.
When will i see,
the sweet rolling hills
and feel the crisp clean breeze?
Maybe in a dream...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An enjoyable piece. You took me there and it was beautiful. Keep it up Jamie