Clouds are dotting the pale sky blue,
Bluebonnets bloom with a purplish hue.
Ferns and tall grasses swish in the breeze,
While chipmunks scamper up the oak trees.
The light has vanished and the moon is shimmering,
The owls are hooting and the fireflies are glittering.
Eyes of all colors blink in the dark.
A cry breaks out from the small meadowlark.
By the wispy clouds the moon’s light disappears,
And across a rushing river leap the deer.
By sunrise a pinkish light stretches across the sky,
And there is the sound of water nearby.
The rushing river, the same as before,
Is now the color of turquoise and more.
A waterfall cascades down the slope,
Where the dream of growing are the seeds’ hope.
Twigs and stones litter the forest floor,
And past the forest is a golden moor.
The ridges of stumps pop up from the ground,
Where a snail wishes not to be found.
A journey it was to see this great sight,
But it is time for me to take off to flight.
