The Prettiest Place
- alessiahughes97
- Nov 10, 2020
- 1 min read
Poem, written in Scotland on November 10, 2018
The Prettiest Place
The prettiest place I’ve been to
Has green rolling hills and mountains,
Trees tightly packed together,
Water flowing across the highest lands.
The prettiest place I’ve been to
Has history too old to remember,
Houses made of uneven stone,
Skies colored in with blues and grays.
The prettiest place I’ve been to
Has secrets, folk songs, and fairytales,
Monsters no one has ever seen,
Legends of the oldest kings and queens.
The prettiest place I’ve been to
Has little interference from human touch:
Just a few farms and castles
Blending in as if they’ve been there forever.
With the green grass, orange leaves,
Blue water, pink sky, purple rocks,
The prettiest place I’ve been to
Begins and ends in the north.
The prettiest place I’ve been to
Isn’t touched by the sun for long.
The dark wraps itself around foggy hills.
The stars shine over the clouds and rain
In the ancient myth of Scotland.
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