Writers 
Between the mighty mountains high,
Where clouds drift slowly through the sky,
A beautiful valley rests below,
With streams that gently twist and flow.
The valley wakes with morning light,
As golden rays chase away the night.
Fresh drops of dew adorn the grass,
While cool winds through the flowers pass.
The birds begin their morning song,
And peaceful sounds the hills prolong.
Tall trees rise beside the streams,
Their branches dancing in the breeze.
Wild flowers bloom in colours bright,
Turning the valley into a sight.
The river flows with gentle grace,
Reflecting clouds upon its face.
It carries stories from the hills,
Passing through rocks and quiet fields.
At noon, the valley shines with gold,
Its beauty never seeming old.
Farmers work across the land,
Planting seeds with hopeful hands.
The soil provides, the rivers feed,
And nature answers every need.
Children may run across the plain,
Laughing beneath the gentle rain.
When evening comes, the sky turns red,
And golden sunlight softly spreads.
The mountains cast their shadows long,
While birds return with evening song.
The valley becomes calm and still,
Resting beneath the distant hill.
At night, the stars appear so bright,
Painting the darkness with their light.
The moon looks down from far above,
And fills the valley with quiet love.
A valley teaches us to see
That strength can live in harmony.
Though mountains rise with towering pride,
The valley gives them space beside.
It reminds us that life can grow
In places where the soft winds blow.
So let the valleys stand serene,
With rivers clear and forests green.
For in their silence, hearts can find
A peaceful rest for troubled minds.
And wherever life's long pathways lead,
The valley remains a place of peace indeed.
