Prairie Gold

What is in a poem that we don't already know?

She weathers through the fields

For a jolly traipsing yonder

O’er gentle sloping hills

Rolling always, a little farther.

‘She is always out of reach,’

The Spring and Summer ponders,

For when she tries to turn

The waves just push her harder.

Reviews

[willweb]

Nicely done and welcome back. I really enjoyed the close rhymes in this, I like how you did that.

[Ribs]

Thank you very much! (I didn't realized it had been seven months, that's kind of wild how quickly time passes!)