In the gentle rustle of the leaves,
Where sunlight dances on the streams,
A whisper calls from nature’s eaves,
Inviting us to dream its dreams.
The hills, a canvas lush and green,
Painted by the dawn’s embrace,
Invite our weary hearts to glean
The solace found in nature’s grace.
Where daffodils in clusters sway,
Their golden heads in reverence bow,
We find the peace of yesterday,
And cherish moments of the now.
As twilight casts its gentle glow,
The stars emerge, a cosmic choir,
In nature’s arms, our spirits grow,
Igniting Wordsworth’s endless fire.