The Place to Live

I dream of a place with mountains up high, Eagles and hawks soar through the sky. Fields of tall grass, lush and green, The wind blowing fresh and clean. The howl of wolves in the dead of night, The sun rising in the morning oh so bright. A river running cool and clear, A hidden forest full of deer. Hills and valleys far and wide, Up on my horse, I’d love to ride. Trees that would climb miles upward, Does this place exist? I’ve wondered.