The Hill

The Hill

Slowly, it began.
The mighty river
began to flash
and a trickle
started to flow.
The empty land
began to grow
as elegant trees
grew with grace.
In the blink
of an eye,
abundant fruits
sprouted along
magnificent branches.
Like static,
animals began to appear.
Slowly, but surely.
By now,
a gushing river,
flowed through
the hill,
and mighty trees
dominated the landscape.
With a final touch,
the Circle of Stones
was returned with a bang,
its aura as inviting,
yet intimidating,
as before.

My friends and I play a game on the hill behind our house that mocks a civilization. We have hunting boundaries, and our "food" is dandelions and other things. I am the leader of ForestClan, and someone else WarriorClan. The boundary is the river. We also have a "medicine forest" that has a certain type of flower we use as medicine.

We also have other things, and this poem is based on the return of the game. Everything on the hill is silent, then we go up to play everything comes back to life.

Wow, that was really cool. I liked it.