The trees that quiver in the summer air,
Are nothing to the beauty of your mind.
Every bird in flight with a song to share,
Is thorny set against this natural find.
The water sprayed from the great waterfall,
Appears less fresh than your delicate skin.
The fire in the sky begins nightfall,
Imitating gentle beats from within.
The jewel constellations of the cool night,
Are void images to your eyes of gold.
The crisp petals of a rose, pearly white,
No more pure than the essence you behold.
Natures passion remains for all to see,
The blessing of all kinds is held in thee.
Submitted: January 10th, 2005
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