Rain like tears so it’s appears

My windows
Streaked with what appears
Dolgellau’s angels
Gentle tears
Opaque for those apparently
Seemingly set in stone
Somewhere atop a hill
The mountain lakes a chill
Hollywood Heights
With its bunch of lights
Seagulls flying high
Bowing in the coming wind
One wonders how they eye
The forests dark with greenery
The Birches seemingly red
In Mists below
The crags that sweep
It’s what the poet said
Was possible
unlikely
but probably a place
Where people climb and saunters view
And so many Sheep do grace