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Beneath the blue azure sky,
in the late summer’s breeze,
sounds from ripened wheat
roll like rippling waves
over hills in golden valleys,
where a solitary olive tree
with sunlit leaves shines like
an emerald, embedded in gold.
23 Sunday Oct 2011
Posted in Poems in English III, Poetry
Tags
Beneath the blue azure sky,
in the late summer’s breeze,
sounds from ripened wheat
roll like rippling waves
over hills in golden valleys,
where a solitary olive tree
with sunlit leaves shines like
an emerald, embedded in gold.