When I’m out of my elements, Worn out and in gloomy moments, When I’m in tempestuous times, I seek out relief sacraments. Taking a brisk walk through the woods, Coming out of the saddling hoods, Communing and home with nature, I glide out of my sombre moods. The woods wake my dampen spirit, Hopes go beyond the sky limit, Gloom clouds are lifted and dispersed, I push past every deficit. Third place podium in Poetry Soup