Avadovey

Music is the sound that fills the air,

With sadness or joy or angry flare,

It can be one that lulls you to sleep,

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The vast, rolling hills, glittering crimson on and on.

Under the breath of the wind is the trembling pond.

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In a small small valley, in the shade of a mountain,

A stream poured out, just like a fountain.

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Clouds are dotting the pale sky blue,

Bluebonnets bloom with a purplish hue.

Ferns and tall grasses swish in the breeze,

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