My sixteen year old says he wrote this poem. I told him if he sends it to me, I'd post it on my blog. Let me know what you think.
I look upon the sea of grass,
and the beauty of the flowers,
the endless miles and great mass,
so peaceful like light Spring showers.
Foot prints on the hot Summer sand,
waves crash on the once quiet shore,
infinity of sea and land,
vibrations to my inner core.
The rolling green hills of tall trees,
streams thru the soft forest floor,
as I fall to my tired knees,
I desire to travel on and see much more.
~by Michael S. Hilton
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