Mother Nature Poem by Anisa Tara
Mother Nature
Piles of sticks are strewn about the ground
Leaves gather inconsistently in old, rotten mounds
I see a white-chested bird with an orange beak
As I stroll pass, in song he begins to speak
The sun finally emerges to announce her hello
I unfold my umbrella to hide from her precious glow
And though life demands I return promptly to my seat
I thank Mother Nature for this sweet but brief retreat
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 9:52:28 AM # 1.0.0.1119
