In fields where morning dew still clings,
The strawberry blossoms greet the dawn,
With ruby hues and tender wings,
A promise of sweetness newly born.

Beneath the sun’s warm, golden glow,
They ripen, rich and full of life,
Each berry’s heart begins to show,
The essence of summer, free from strife.

The gentle breeze whispers tales,
Of harvests past and joys yet found,
As hands reach out with woven pails,
And laughter fills the fertile ground.

Oh, strawberries, your nectar sweet,
A taste of nature’s pure delight,
With every bite a world we meet,
Of simple joys and endless light.