At L'art De La Vie Poem by Kinsley Lee

The mountain road, wind to the hilly
Woods, and the resort's in the midst of the valley.
The sounds when brook is flowing, is light,
And the garden of the resort, the sun cast its light.
The mountain bungalows look bird's nest
And the traditional houses located in the crest.

The clear brook's singing in the beautiful valley,
And on the great rocks, there're resort houses and art gallery.
The sky is blue, and the air is sweet.
The pretty resorts're a man's dream and feat.
Even it's hot, the winds wind
At the valley, and it makes us cool our mind.

Fashion designer, and hair designer,
By pencil, he've been lived for long time as a mind drawer.
There are many works, in the gallery,
From birth to death, life-road's on the gallery.
Wall and which's linking by the narrow hallway.
Maybe he always prepare his last way.

Smiling landlady deeply bowed,
On returning, the tilted sun broke thro' on the road.
We are anxious between the art and life
And wanting consisting in voyage of life.
He's a great man at his business field
And he's cohesively maintained another field.
(Jul.1st,2024, Kinsley Lee)