
A delicate breeze murmurs through the trees,
The sun's warm fingers brush my skin.
The fragrance of downpour, sweet and clean,
Birdsong moves in the air,
Each sense a string in nature's consideration.

A delicate breeze murmurs through the trees,
The sun's warm fingers brush my skin.
The fragrance of downpour, sweet and clean,
Birdsong moves in the air,
Each sense a string in nature's consideration.
Comments (1)
Nice Work.