Journal entry by JOSHUA M. ANZAKU —
SWITZERLAND
There is nothing in the minds
of poets to write about;
as the wind blows the tops of the Swiss alps,
trees sway their branches and feel
refreshed,
the snowy mildew shines like the glassy sea which
give
pleasures to on lookers and holiday makers.
they sneeze the fresh aroma
from the elegant lillies
from the swiss mountains
and think of a miniature of the heavenly bliss!!
the wind blows again,
heading to every swiss lake
where the waters are well treated and now
in a perfect order
waiting for passengers in
passenger fairies to
show their tickets as
a sign that they are obedient citizens of
CONFOEDERATIO HELVETICA.
strangers wonder at such orderliness
as though commanded by God.
Nobody is super rich
and Nobody is in abject poverty
as everyone is swiss,
thinks switzerland
and acts swiss!
for the windy alps has every
code to guide their ways!
the wind blows every cent,
and send sweet smelling scents into
every bungalows
and sweep the dustless air
back to the swiss alps
leaving every parkers and on lookers
gazing at the
beautiful terrains of swiss alps!!!
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