[Here's a poem I cooked up recently. It's not a patch on anything I've written before, and I'm still not sure if I like it or not, but it seemed like a good idea at the time
]
Over the hill,
A shining sun
A golden green field
Babbling brooks
Clear blue lakes.
Vast forests, a sea of green.
Gold in autumn.
Splashes of colour
The vibrant paint of a different age!
Woodsmoke rises
With the sound of laughter.
The light patter of feet
And joyous eyes.
The rustle of the leaves
With a drip of rain.
And all in the mist beyond,
gazing through a clear pane,
into a far distant country in a different world.
(Edited for minor typos)
