In an open field I stand,

Barefoot at the bottom of a Kentucky Rolling Hill,
     Cool blades of thick green grass cushion each step,
            A velveteen carpet stretching as far as the eye can see
                      Melting into the distant horizon.  

                          A passing breeze cools my skin.
                  I march on.  A summit to conquer.
            I will not be defeated.
A few steps more.

On top of the world,
           I stretch out my arms and twirl, twirl, twirl.
                 There’s no one here but me.
                        I am free.

                              I look up.
                       What do I see?
                  Not a cloud in the sky,
             Its colors –  perfect blend of blue,
Skye, Baby, Sapphire, Iceberg and Cerulean.

            I look down.
                  What do I see?
                          An open field below.

                                  Cool blades of thick green grass cushion each step,
                          A velveteen carpet stretching as far as the eye can see
                  Melting into the distant horizon.

                                          Seated at the bottom of this Kentucky Rolling Hill,
                                                            An isolated and beautiful,  
White Barn