Amongst the hills where wildflowers bloom,
The whispering trees sing a gentle tune,
With every rustle, a story unfolds,
Of Wordsworth’s nature, timeless and bold.

The streams cascade with a crystalline grace,
Reflecting the sky’s serene embrace,
Each ripple a poem, each wave a rhyme,
Crafted by nature, untouched by time.

In fields of green where daffodils sway,
The essence of peace holds sway,
Beneath the heavens, vast and blue,
The soul finds solace, pure and true.

Through paths untrodden, where shadows play,
Wordsworth’s spirit guides our way,
In the heart of nature, we find our place,
A sanctuary of beauty, a sacred space.