That walk up the hills offered a breathtaking view
A vantage point from where ours eyes beheld, 
A tiny hamlet in the palms of a  golden dale.
Misty curtained sloping hills our eyes feasted on.

And then to our delight, a host of warblers 
Wandered across the burnished evening skies.
A babbling brook mirrored the changing hued sky.
We paused and took a breath after the steep climb.

And followed the meandering route uphill
Right at the bend was a sharp precipice
Which we’d missed by inches. Serendipity!
Yet, that thought of what might have been stayed for a while.

It was as if someone had  guided us away 
As if by holding our hands, gently pulling us 
Into a shamrock green meadowy expanse
Dazed we were, reeling from the thought of a steep fall.

Our eyes turned away from scenic beauty,
We saw neither the sparkle of fireflies
Above purple iris beds, nor dragonflies
Bobbing in the soft breeze above Queens Anne’s Lace.
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Mumtaz N Khorakiwala
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