When softly blows a summer breeze

Which lulls the sleepy swaying trees

and gently ripples a lazy stream

held in comfort by mossy banks;

With cirrus frolicking in the wind,

Playfully skipping through the sky

And dancing round the lofty peaks

Of mountains basking in the sun.

A nightingale in a wooded glade

Sweetly singing to it’s mate,

While stellar light does softly kiss,

Seductive flowers on petal lips.

When trees caress the midnight sky

Cuddled soft in leafy hands,

And sway to music by the wind -

These are pictures God paints for us.

Attlee.