Amid the rustling leaves’ sweet song,
Where whispers of the wild belong,
The poets pen their tales of yore,
In nature’s arms forevermore.
Beneath the canopy of dreams,
Where sunlight dances on the streams,
Words flow like rivers, deep and free,
A symphony of earth’s decree.
The mountains stand in silent grace,
Guardians of this sacred space,
With every line, each verse unfurls,
The beauty of our wondrous world.
In every breeze, in every hue,
The poets find a story true,
Nature’s canvas, vast and wide,
Their inspiration, side by side.