Her Path

Her boots shine, 

the linings stretch in their stride. 

Mountains pass by, 

their peaks in flow. 

A wooded canopy looms overhead, 

the bristles aglow. 

Light passes through, 

the evening before her. 

It is the stream, 

and does she walk it. 

It is her very own path. 

Reviews

[Nisreen]

One would wish to hold such admiration from a lover

to adore her very own path

thats real love

[Joey K]

I like this. Not all poems have to rhyme, but it always makes the poem better when it does. Very descriptive and I love the basic idea. Good poem and keep writing!

[Spencer Barker]

Thank you, Joey! I am glad you enjoyed it. :)