Time ceases to have meaning,
When we experience this feeling,
Nature’s ever changing moods,
A blissful morning spent in woods.
Dawn had taken a torch in to trees,
Burnishing them with gold, for us to see,
The dawn remade the woods in colorful patterns,
A passion of the nature in perfection burns.
Swaying branches of trees to greet,
In nature’s treat, all is sweet,
Buzzing bees swarmed up in the air,
Swooping on dewy flowers, searching for nectar.
Fragrance of nature pervaded everywhere,
As if heaven had sprayed perfumes there,
Twitterings, tweets and chirps of winged friends,
Lifting up our spirits to heaven’s far ends.
A male robin sang softly to his mate,
His deep love for her to propogate,
Dense wood spotted with crystal clear streams,
Woods are my soul’s abode of dreams