Morning spills in golden streams
Across the hills and silver beams,
Where rivers hum their ancient song
And wildflowers dance the whole day long.
The mountains wear a crown of snow,
While emerald forests softly grow,
Their whispering leaves in breezes light
Turn ordinary hours bright.
The ocean paints the shore with foam,
A restless heart that calls us home,
And sunsets melt in shades of fire
Like heaven lit by pure desire.
Above, the stars like lanterns gleam,
Scattered through the midnight dream,
While moonlight drapes the quiet land
With gentle, pale, and silver hand.
Nature speaks without a word,
In every wave and singing bird,
A timeless beauty, wild and free—
The Earth's eternal poetry.
No comments:
Post a Comment