#WritcoPoemPrompt34
At the edge of the furthest mountain,
Between the valley and the lazy river,
Beyond the edge of the scented meadow,
I can see the hues painted by the setting sun.

The sun rises and sets everyday,
An unbroken cycle of hope,
An awakening of expectations,
To all that live to see the day.

Lush, green meadows,
Brimming with fragrant flowers,
Borderlands to joy,
Pathways to...