Frasier's Hill
As our car took us on the winding road
Up towards Frasier's Hill,
I heard the calls of birds and monkeys
Like a choir of voices so shrill
That they echoed over all the trees
And reached higher and higher until
They touched the clouds
That danced on Frasier's Hill.
I breathed the air so clean and fresh,
Saw grass so green and a sky so blue,
The different coloured roses were bathed
In a million drops of dew.
The old houses stood in their gardens
Each with memories so dear,
Of children who had lived there and played
Year after year.
Narrow paths cut through shrubs and ferns
Leading to places unknown,
Here and there stretched morning glories
Purple and overgrown.
When evening came the sun seemed to yawn
And lie down in a haze of gold,
Shadows became longer and would soon fill
The gardens, paths and tired houses
Of gentle Frasier's Hill.
Poetry by vicky vixen
Read 908 times
Written on 2005-12-08 at 17:58
Tags Hillside
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