Soft is the morning air that sighs
Through meadows all ablaze;
The songs of feathered friends arise
To greet the summer days.

The rivers glide and forests sway,
And softly, dew-kissed flowers;
The warmth of sun, the breeze at play,
Awake nature’s sweet hours.

In simple joys, my spirit’s free,
To float upon the breeze;
The beauty wild of land and sea,
Can offer sweet release.

• Joyce Kilmer