Speaking To the Silent Hill

Speaking To The Silent Hill A silent hill and sleepy soft wind Tall moist woods all around Rain just stopped and silence ruled Fainting weather deadly gelid No sounds here except my voice Your silence is a great surprise What is the mystery of this hill? Appearing creepy, lonely and ill Wild grass gathered in crowd Round, round all around Very dreadful these little guards of woods Their savage thorns Ferocious, vicious To every one they remind Wild is wild never refined For echo when I shout in hill They come very dim and dull Only hollow echoes, not any trill But fills me with thrill Red orange clouds before the sun Twilight rays as blazing fire Like cruel queen in the mirror In angry mood with open hair The ruler of that silent nature Who captures all the voices here Silent, silent, Oh silent hill. All Rights Reserved Poetess S. Nadia Azam Shah Bukhari.