Trees of Sycamore Oak and Beach
Their Lofty tops far out of reach
A breeze that whispers through the leaves
As if to say come join us please
Old ruined buildings standing tall
Broken wheels by waterfalls
A floor that's strewn with Rocks and Boulders
The stream that rushes dancing over
Ferns and Grasses gently swaying
Birds and insects flitting playing
It's Seasons beauty never fails
My place of Magic Kennal Vale.
Nice poem Monty.
ReplyDeleteMonty outstanding images.
ReplyDeleteLovely.
John.