In the quiet of dawn, the beauty arises,
Painting the sky with hues of gold and pink.
Each blossom unfurls, a delicate surprise,
In nature’s canvas, where hearts softly sink.

The whispers of wind through ancient trees,
Murmur tales of beauty, old and true.
A symphony of leaves that dance with ease,
As sunlight filters through, with a golden hue.

Upon the waves, the moon casts its glow,
A silvery path that beckons the soul.
Beauty in the night, where dreams gently flow,
In the stillness, where the heart feels whole.

The grace of beauty, in every tiny thing,
From the flutter of wings, to the morning dew,
It speaks to us in a language of spring,
Reminding us always, that beauty is true.