this land knoll to distant tree, bound by stream, reaches the spirit be
these hills blue green grey change colour with the shadows of the day
this grass follows annual scene bakes bronze burns black, grows green
these roads ridden driven paced, weave pattern reflecting life traced
this scent like harvest grain fresh turned soil bush flowers, first rain
these trees acacia baobab palm bare branches deep shaded calm
this sky arches all azure blended blue, horizon line obscure
these days cool breeze or still dawn through dusk passion courage will
this place holds strong its own spirit free, this land is home
– by Mike Puffett
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