Honeysuckle blossoms
Beneath the willow
trees
Bring sweet
invitation to
The early morning
breeze.
The hummingbird,
the butterfly
Will soon be on
the wing to
Gather nature’s
nectar
With the nurturing
it brings,
And I am naught
but witness
As the miracles
abound.
With silent awe as
recompense
I cling to every
sound.
Alive with every
color
My humble eyes can
see
I wonder at the
wonder of
My gentle company.
Nestled deep in
darkened wood
The nightbird
croons his song.
Though tempted by
his sweetness
I dare not sing
along.
It would be a sign
of disrespect,
A loss of gentle
grace.
So, I will nestle
in repose
In country’s warm
embrace.
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