The Sunday Whirl Wordle #660
Across the plains they travel
for a brief taste of the glorious
holy waters in the valley
where it rained
The weeping of the people
beats a rhythm throughout the land
Upon reaching that cradle
where the veins of life began
To find the lush and fragrant forests
leveled to the ground
and the seas were all despoiled
the sky a gray no longer cerulean blue
A long and arduous journey taken
to a land that held no promise
With a sad sigh they bid farewell
their journey continues on
Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words 
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