I Painted The Scene Poem by Phil Soar

The wind whispered softly to me
On a warm breeze it touched my face
Passing me with the clouds
An odd drop of rain like a kiss
Melting my heart
As I was in love with nature

While the sun was hidden I was happy
Just knowing it was there
Waiting
The grey began to turn to a light silver
As the breeze moved it on
Slowly allowing the warmth through
And showing glimpses
Of that sun

Sitting on the fallen Oak tree
That somehow still had leaves that unfurled
Yet it was broken
But still had a beauty
I focused on a passing fox
That looked in my direction
But hadn't seen me
I painted the scene

And it's title was evident
I love Nature