The lush greens,
the darks, the lights, the mediums, the browns,
blending in perfect proportions,
washed,
rather bathed and cleansed with rain,
dancing and swaying merrily
in refreshing cool breeze,
hailing, heralding,
extending that embalming hug.
The glacial bite seeping through pores,
reviving the parched soul.
Thirst quenching.
Oh! It had been a while.
But, what a welcome?
The hills are happy.
The daughter is home.
the darks, the lights, the mediums, the browns,
blending in perfect proportions,
washed,
rather bathed and cleansed with rain,
dancing and swaying merrily
in refreshing cool breeze,
hailing, heralding,
extending that embalming hug.
The glacial bite seeping through pores,
reviving the parched soul.
Thirst quenching.
Oh! It had been a while.
But, what a welcome?
The hills are happy.
The daughter is home.
Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt #110 Glacial
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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.