Poetry

Mother Nature Seen (#70)

The feather floats guided by the wind,
I saw Mother Nature – she grinned,
I know she likes to amuse herself and play,
Even makes the clouds do a little ballet,
Storms and lightning aren’t her being mad,
That’s her inner rock star being bad,
The world around us is her private stage,
She has the pen, and we’re her blank page,
Mother Nature, so sweet and so wild,
Ever so wise but playful as a small child,
The world held firmly in her clutch,
Creation and destruction in her touch,

Any Thoughts?

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