In the gentle rustle of the leaves,
Lies a world of simple grace,
Where time moves at its own pace,
And every breath feels like a gift.

The morning sun paints golden hues,
On a canvas of dew-kissed grass,
Whispering tales of the past,
In the language of the serene breeze.

A cup of tea warms the hands,
As laughter dances in the air,
Sharing moments free from care,
In the embrace of kindred spirits.

As the stars adorn the night sky,
Simplicity finds its gentle place,
In the heart’s quiet space,
Where peace and joy reside.