Beneath the canopies where sunlight dances,
The poets find their muse in rustling leaves,
In gentle streams that sing their timeless songs,
Their words reflect the beauty of the earth.

In dawn’s soft glow, where dew-kissed petals gleam,
They weave their lines with threads of morning light,
Capturing the essence of the fleeting breeze,
As nature’s symphony plays on their hearts.

Through whispered winds and shadows cast by trees,
The poets paint their landscapes with their words,
Each stanza a tribute to the wild’s embrace,
Each verse a testament to nature’s grace.

In every season’s change, they find a tale,
A story told through colors, scents, and sounds,
Their ink a river flowing through the wild,
Forever capturing the soul of earth.