On The Top of The Hill

by Portia Burton

After a daylong arduous trek ,
We had erected a makeshift tent,
Others went to sleep but I was awake,
Although tired and equally spent.

Quietly I went out in the open
To stand under the canopy of sky,
And then my eyes began to moisten
As the sight around filled them with joy.

There I stood on the top of the hill,
A river was flowing in the valley below,
Except for it everything was still,
Basking in an etherial bluish glow.

All the forms looked vague and dim,
Like a wet water-colour painting,
It seemed like a surreal dream,
Breathtakingly beautiful and enchanting!

I looked around with a thankful heart
At the Nature’s silent celebration,
And felt grateful for being a part
Of this wonderful divine creation!

©Portia Burton 2013

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