Through groves of green and fields of gold, The stories of nature lovingly unfold; Where every blade of grass, every petal and stone, Is woven with magic, a world of its own.

In the hush of the twilight, in the dawn’s rosy blush, Nature sings softly, a tender, sweet hush. With the pulse of the earth beating firm in my chest, In the dance of existence, my soul finds its rest.

• David Jones