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Valley Fields

There is my Valley home, cradled within twin Himalayan peaks above.
The rich soil brings forth a purity of natures love. 
The ancient grains of life grows as it is trained, it prospers in the gentle
Rain.

With Ox and mule that cultivate the bounty fields of grain that life's bread
Is planted in rows of red, in silence where beauty is felt and left unsaid.                                                                                   
The fields dance in whispering breeze, a chosen stream that kisses this
Land with ease.

The fields are talking to spirit of earth's bountiful view, opening to sunshine's
golden hue.
Working until the setting sun, and rising before it appears, the fields of life
Drinks of the ages, of blood, sweat and tears.

Harvest will reap the goodwill and hold in value the nurturing quality when
Land prepare for winters sleep.
The mountains land below will view its people with hope and pride.
To live in the presence, where life's treasures naturally abides.



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Valley Fields