The Next Poem - The Writer's Struggle

As the mist unveils,
The magic of the hills
The first rays of the golden sun
Bathe the valley in a bright hue.

The gentle fragrance
Of the ripe tea-leaves
Blends with the mist
To produce a divine twist!

The bluebird chirps
Calling its mate
The first bus from the town below
Gingerly snakes its way up the valley.

Idle thoughts penned by me
The frustrated author
Sitting in his room
Lost for words....