Poetry

Nature (#34)

The bark of trees is nature’s fingerprints,
Not one is the same from hard oak to birch smelling mints,

All trees held firm by rock, root, and dirt,
Nature is rough, but never intentionally would it hurt,

Leaves are the mouths of the plants,
The rustlings are whispers but understand them we can’t,

Emerald leafy green is nature’s eye,
She needs no age because she will not die,

Marble with veins of ruby is her skin,
Her emotions vary from storm to chirping wren,

She wears perfume of the world,
Perfume of warm beaches and towering forests all swirled,

She is large yet very beautiful to see,
Best of all there is room in her heart for all including me,

Her patience is the sparkly still of the lake,
Life is the precious home she holds for all to make,

Any Thoughts?

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