<font color=darkviolet>The woods are like a symphony
playing their ever-lasting song.
To some it’s just cacophony,
but for me it is never wrong.
Because I listen for the notes,
understand what’s sung from birds’ throats.
I hear the wind through trees strumming
and the critters blowing their horns.
I can feel the acorns drumming.
Catch flowers trilling amongst the thorns.
For the woods are never silent;
a free mind unlocks the music meant.
(I had to make this about nature, have it feature a smilie, and use quite a bit of personification. I don't think I did too bad.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem