This picture for you I would like to draw,
the scene is not to far from my back door.
It is a lovely spring day,
the frost is starting to melt away.
I am walking my dog along a bush track,
the suns rays are warming my back.
The air is still, the only sounds to be heard,
is the chattering, and calling of numerous birds.
In the sun the bush is gleaming, a brilliant green,
I gaze in awe at this beautiful scene.
Around a corner, and I come to the lake,
its surface is like a giant mirror,
White cotton ball clouds hang,
suspended in it without a shimmer.
Suddenly then, I realize,
isnt it great to be alive.
Tango
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it sure is good to be alive...great beauty can be found anywhere when you open your eyes...fantastic imagery here, I can see every colour you are painting in these lines.