In the meadow’s quiet embrace,
Where tiny blooms unfold,
A world unseen by hurried eyes,
A story softly told.

Amidst the blades of emerald grass,
Where gentle breezes play,
Ants march in silent harmony,
In their intricate ballet.

The dewdrop glistens at dawn’s light,
A crystal on a leaf,
Reflecting skies of endless dreams,
In moments bright yet brief.

Beneath the shade of ancient oaks,
Moss carpets weave their art,
In the realm of the small and subtle,
Nature speaks to the heart.