The Meadow’s Edge At the meadow’s edge, where wild things roam, a tapestry woven with nature’s thread, where daisies and clovers find their home, a vibrant life, where dreams are fed.

Butterflies flit in a dizzy ballet, as sunlight spills on a verdant sea, each moment a gift, a gentle display, a sacred space where I’m meant to be.

In this haven of wild, I breathe in deep, for here in the arms of the land, I’m free, with nature’s love, my heart will keep, a treasure trove of eternity.

• Thomas S P S Munch