Oh, let me weave a tapestry of verse,
Where nature’s creatures dance and converse.
The pigeons, graceful in the meadow’s sway,
In flight, they flutter, free to play.
The game, nocturnal, swift and sly,
Seeks solace beneath the starry sky.
The water creatures, bound by liquid chains,
Yearn for freedom, where liberty remains.
And behold, the butterflies so fair,
The last of their kind, delicate and rare.
Even they, like others, thirst for a taste,
Yearning for droplets in this arid waste.
But oh, to dissolve with that wandering cloud,
Blessed by freshness, where dreams are allowed.
To exhale amidst violets, damp and sweet,
Awakening the woods, a fragrant retreat.
In this realm of nature’s vibrant hues,
Where life’s essence mingles and imbues.
Let us find solace, our spirits set free,
As we blend with the world’s grand tapestry.
:: 06.04.2023 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 