from high vantage point

I gaze ’cross valleys

to far distant hills

where on just meadows

at my horizon

 bright sunshine spills

’neath clouds I ponder

were I to paint this scene

stretched out before me

in many shades of green

where the furthest field

and furthest trees

have the lightest grass

and the lightest leaves

a trusty art expert

would surely be bound

to say I’ve painted it

the wrong way round.