A Delightful Hike

The high hills hummed in praise of their Creator, As we recklessly rushed down all the rough rocks, Careful not to tumble down the treacherous Uneven paths that led to the vast valley. Here and there were fruitful farms, corn growing tall. Whilst a cacophony of crows, hens and geese Filled the air contrasting with passeri and larks, Practicing their mellow melodious songs. We found a tavern, delicious spicy food That soon greeted us as we entered and met The few travellers that revelled in that place Which was so warm that we ate our fill with grace. We marked the superb place on our tattered maps, Sure to visit the homely tavern again. FICTION (there are no real hills in Malta)