Like I was going to add another feather to my hat of roses,
Another grassland with same knock of dozes,
In a place where flowers bloom around the shepherd Moses.
The mountains were the silver crown of the green gold grass in the valley,
The frost and the shades of grass were forcing me to a new voyage of rally,
The trees laid down in a slanting manner took me to the escapism of Shelley.
The other side was emerging an hill as my thoughts brew,
The shrubs and herbs covering the mighty mountain and a dew,
The white flower white snow white mist covered by white cloud and topped by the sky blue.
The nature when overpowers the books our never failing friends,
It combines holding hands with it balancing in a new trend,
I then become the country people admiring it in a blend.