Gold from daylight is upon my glass window
Her warmth is pure, a dew upon the fine green grass
If sun flies parade, why then the empty front yards,
Oh – a horde of vampires trolling the townlet in disguise
Two giant lizards quarrel over a weary worm
I have seen the mother hen busy cackling,
She reminds me of the tale Grandma use to tell
I’m leaning to wonder and laugh out loud
The early morning wind is super happy
For she is wedded to the chilly climate,
This highlands, her people, my delighted self
Be a beautiful place; I call my sweet home
Now the hills & farmland call me; they are nearby
I shall wallow through mud & brook to get to them
Discover more from Oke’s Musings: Poetry, People and Places
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