Monday, March 10, 2014

HILLS

The hills rise and fall like waves on the sea,

In the winter they're white as clouds,

In summer they're green as grass,

The rounded tops carve the sky like the blade on a bread knife,

Trees make the landscape wild.


By Jody

6 comments:

Mahana Kotuku said...
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Mahana Kotuku said...
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Mahana Kotuku said...

i like your its good reilly

Mahana Kotuku said...
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Mahana Kotuku said...
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Nettie said...

What a cool poem. You have typed it well too - it's very well presented. I like the breadknife bit best. Nettie