The Desolate Green
My helicopter lands on the valley,
It's midday with a most glorious sun,
Casting its strong lights over empty fields
With a spectacle of coloured flowers,
Scattered in red and white over the green,
Spacious with areas of condensed trees.
I land on a patch of field with no trees,
Distances extend over the valley,
Bumpy hills of the most glorious green,
Shadows contrast the strong lights of the sun
Dark parts contrast the colours of flowers,
As hills shade certain areas of fields.
Blooming shades captured in rows on the fields.
Beyond the distance there are looming trees,
Over that there are more lawns of flowers,
Exotic ones too over the valley,
That settles well with the glories of sun,
Of various colours settling on green.
Yellow suns and blue skies constitute green,
Serene and in shades settling on the fields
And as time passes, the light of the sun
Moves on to caress a new row of trees,
Dimming its strong lights over the valley,
An orangey-yellow kiss on flowers.
My helicopter crumples the flowers,
When it settles on to the serene green,
Light of the star seeps over the valley,
Beautified by the calmness of lark fields,
With many species of birds on its trees,
Capturing energies of peeping sun.
I lay out a picnic on lawns of sun,
My mat carefully settles on flowers,
It's just me and an immense of wild trees,
In differing shades, the denseness of green,
Extending chirpily over vast fields,
Looming beyond the depths of the valley.
I chew beneath the sun-light of valley,
Note the colourful flowers of the fields,