Bird calls echo soft and low, Rippling valleys with the flow. In the distance, rivers sing, Inviting all to take their wing.
In evening glow, the meadows sigh, Stretching vast ‘neath darkening sky. The day slips into muted calm, Embracing nature like a balm.
Speak not of worries that the world brings, In sylvan thrones, the heart takes wings. Among the trees, dreams softly flow, Nature’s path is where we grow.
- Philip Larkin