As morning dew kisses the gentle hills,
The sun awakens dreams from silent night.
In cobblestone streets where history spills,
Life dances softly in the morning light.
From bustling markets to serene parks,
A tapestry woven with stories untold.
The laughter of children, the song of larks,
In every corner, a tale unfolds.
The rain taps gently on ancient roofs,
A rhythmic lullaby for restless souls.
In the heart of the city, truth finds its proof,
In whispered moments, the day consoles.
As twilight descends, painting skies in hues,
The day’s canvas fades into night’s embrace.
Yet English life, in its quiet muse,
Leaves traces of beauty, time cannot erase.