My Russia

This is a abit of a poem I wrote driving out of the Leninskiye Gorki, a place I won't soon forget.

But this is relating to the whole of Russia, a beautiful, magical place where anything can happen. It's given me hope and a flame of imagination. I love it and hope to come back as soon as possible

Where sliver birch grows
Along long wide landscapes
And animals sleep under the ground
In their safe and warm escapes

Where real snowflakes fall
Like crystals drifting through the sky
Cold and small and delicate
Falling stars floating by

Where the city meets the clouds
And people flood the streets
Where the underground fills with crowds
And the familiar feel of trains leads me home

Where the country life is good
And amazing people can be found 
Where a few of the homes are made of wood
And the open air is clean and safe and sound

Where polar bears can be seen
Where wolves are known to roam
These are the places I have been
But missed the squirrel near my old home

This is where I used to belong
This is who I once was
This is where I find a long lost past
And where I leave a shard

The End

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