In the cradle of the morning dew,
Where emerald fields stretch wide,
The whispers of the ancient winds
In gentle harmony abide.

Beneath the shadow of the hills,
Lush valleys hum with life,
The dance of streams through mossy stones,
A melody free of strife.

The heather blooms in purple pride,
As skylarks weave their song,
A tapestry of wild, unfettered grace
Where heart and earth belong.

In twilight’s soft embrace they rest,
The tales of nature told,
In every leaf and breeze’s sigh,
The secrets of the old.