Under wood or upon soil,
One has a place to rest.
Where one can collect their thoughts,
Or prepare for life's next test.
The trees provide shelter,
From harsh wind and sun.
Enclosing space from space without,
Making it as one.
The birds fly and screech and twitter,
From both above and below.
Adding to New Hope's rhythm,
Adding to its tempo's flow.
Some people play, some people stay,
Yet our settlement remains.
Standing in both summer's heat,
And the winter's rain.
Some are old, some are feeble,
Some cough, splutter and sneeze.
But they'll wait to see the sun,
Bring back greener leaves.
The original concept for this stems from uni work, namely a voluntary research/creative writing assignment in regards to outdoor spaces on campus. I started off by using poetry to describe it, but have since abandoned that idea. Still, the original work remained and after a bit of adaptation, turned it into an Advance Wars poem.