#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,
Coloured in shades of blushing pink,
Bathed in a warm glow of burnished gold;

I can discern the peace of the still lake,
Gently ripling in silvery circles,
Mirroring, also, the magnificence of the distant mountains;

I can...