Rolling hills with field after field.

Rays from the sun to bask or shield.

I often run barefoot

through the meadow below

where all of the wildflowers grow.

Just up ahead

is where the old cottage sits

and the winding path

that never quits.

It is the perfect place

with an air of grace.

I love the honeysuckles

that border all the walls,

appearing to glide

and hang down each side.

So much beauty can be found

in this field of wildflowers.

The result of nature

and April showers.

I never want to leave

this Heaven on Earth.

This is my home

to which I cleave.