A mountain night

so here I experimented with some descriptive poetry. As the sun climbed down quelling it's ever glowing fire and the west was pleased to free a long-chronicled zephyr. The flower bed let out a lingering air of scent. as if there trickled a fragrance which was for heaven meant. Lights were flickering on, across the countryside, in the mills, across the farms, and in the sheds beside. Try to behold the thunder rumbling in the sky, or recall the day when you were born or narrate the one where you die.