On Monday, I saw amples of bats,
swooping and swishing around the ghost white house,
their screeches echoed through the night sky,
littered with shining stars.

On Tuesday, I heard the moans of two beautiful deer,
prancing around the emerald field,
every step infused with joyfulness.

On Wednesday, I tasted the frost and snow of the crisp morning,
thousands of birch trees had frosted fingers,
which swayed in the freezing breeze.

On Thursday, I dreamt of travelling to the moon,
and knowing the unknown thinking about the future,
satellites floating through the blackness,
mysterious people living on other planets.

On Friday, I found a solitary cloud drifting in the air,
soaring slowly, but who would mind.
he does his own speed and that is all that matters.

On Saturday, I heard the ripples and rapids,
of a well known river it was peaceful there,
remote and closed off to the busy world.

On Sunday, I saw mud infused tracks whistling,
into the small lonely forest,
but the forest had a few friends because he was wild,
and the animals where wild too.