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Description
The trees write poems of the beautiful green
leaves.
The leaves tell the story of the early spring
breeze.
The sun tells the story of the flowers that
grow.
The flowers write a poem about the sun's
mighty glow.

The stream tells a tale of the rocks and the
fish.
While a lone standing well harbors a wish.
The willow writes of shadows that dance
in the day.
Till the moon starts to rise and they all run
away.

The birds and the bee's will write of their
flight.
The wind writes the breeze that makes them
so light.
The frogs sing a song as the moon starts to
rise.
The fireflies will dance as they light up the
skies.
The owl cries as the stars start to
shine.

We copy what we see as the earth starts to
show it.
Maybe we hold the quill but destiny is the poet.

Description
The trees write poems of the beautiful green
leaves.
The leaves tell the story of the early spring
breeze.
The sun tells the story of the flowers that
grow.
The flowers write a poem about the sun's
mighty glow.

The stream tells a tale of the rocks and the
fish.
While a lone standing well harbors a wish.
The willow writes of shadows that dance
in the day.
Till the moon starts to rise and they all run
away.

The birds and the bee's will write of their
flight.
The wind writes the breeze that makes them
so light.
The frogs sing a song as the moon starts to
rise.
The fireflies will dance as they light up the
skies.
The owl cries as the stars start to
shine.

We copy what we see as the earth starts to
show it.
Maybe we hold the quill but destiny is the poet.