In the heart of the morning dew,
Where sunlight kisses the emerald hue,
Wordsworth’s nature softly sings,
Of tranquil streams and angelic wings.

The daffodils dance in golden light,
A symphony of colors so bright,
Underneath the azure skies,
Where every moment, a new surprise.

Amidst the whispers of the trees,
The gentle rustle of the breeze,
Nature’s canvas, pure and grand,
Painted by the poet’s hand.

In every brook, in every flower,
Lies the essence of nature’s power,
Wordsworth’s vision, clear and bright,
A testament to earth’s delight.