As I sit on the hill,
I move my hands,
From here to there.

I make people ogle,
When they look at me.

But when they come near,
I stand still and stare,
At the face that comes near me.

But when they move,
I move again,
In hopes to draw them near,
And ogle at the beauty that I set in front of you,
In hopes that you will carry me away.