Where rivers meet the calm of shore, The echoes murmur, tales of yore. The grains of sand slip through our hands, And nature holds the weary lands.

In whispered tones, the breezes sigh, While stars will dance in endless sky. From hills so high, the earth will talk, And shadows weave where footsteps walk.

With every breath of twilit air, Nature unveils her beauty rare. Between the valleys, love will bloom, And light the path amid the gloom.

• Philip Larkin