The Sunlit Meadow In meadows bright where lilies sway, The sun spills gold through fields of hay, Butterflies flit, a vibrant hue, In nature’s palette, the heart renews.
The laughter of the children’s play, Echoes through the blooms each day, A moment caught, a timeless treasure, In sweet simplicity, we find our measure.
- Mieczysław Wojnicz