The hills were crushing against the sky

The mills were waving their arms in the air

The birds flew and soared on high

As we watched from the seats accross the land


The houses docked themselves in the green

The church stood and caused a scene

The many poles added to the fray

Of the ever pleasing chaotic November day


In the distance the sky is blue

and the colours blend in a good natural hue

The writer takes all this in a smiles

And closes her eyes with a satisfying sigh.