The Meadow Upon The Hill

As a child I often sat outside in the meadow upon the hill just behind my home. The meadow lined a large and mysterious forest and was scattered with flowers of all colours. When I sat in the plains of long grass I would either be reading stories or writing my own, while listening to the peaceful sounds of nature that surrounded me. Although I always was warned about entering the forest I wondered what lay in the beyond the border, shrouded with mystery. But I would soon know more than expected.