Hills of Gold

Somewhere far inland lie vast fields of gold

Bore on whispy white stalks they blanket the hills

A land plagued by storms like tales of old

A land to be held by only strong will

For as bountiful as the land may be

Nature has sworn to never loose its hold

By summer, wildfires scorch all it sees

By winter, twisters rip and tear at the gold

Yet through all this treachery men claim their own

Those of will hold nature's leash atop gold thrones