I sit at the base of an oak tree,
on the top of a small hill.
The leaves provide shade,
the grasses around are tall,
long and golden brown.
Flowers bloom, pink and blue,
the later match the sky,
but for its fluffy white clouds.
The air is pleasantly warm.
In the distance I see mountains,
still caped with snow on their peaks,
nearby a brook bubbles, peacefully.
A small wooden bench,
worn with age, but sturdy,
and a good book in my lap.
It’s a perfect spot to stay,
and read the afternoon away.
Poetry
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Beautiful! I love your work.