The trees slightly swaying and bending in the breeze,
As the white clouds are slowly moving across blue;
Merrily the grass grows as if it only knew the sun,
Summer turns to autumn, then winter and spring has sprung.
.
The world goes around in circles as here on earth we live,
No matter or marvel is more than the breath of life to give;
And as the weather changes we have plenty left to say,
For these constant conversations that go on in verse all day.
.
You could of heard a pin drop as the rain was coming down,
While all across this land was flooding of city and town;
The spirit filled the nation as what sense was null and void,
For the beauty of inspiration was now never to be destroyed.
.
It happens as you listen to those pattering little drops,
Where all becomes complete as we harvest in the crops;
As if it comes and goes from years to days gone by,
This parched and desert land lives out another wet and dry.
.
And I don't know what to make of it in all this constant pain,
Perhaps our bags of money have all gone down the drain;
While here amidst the daffodils and roses of carefree life,
The battle nears completion as we end this war and strife.
.
If you know me it is confusing to the real environmental end,
I might just be a puppet who's turning out to be your friend;
For the using and the making seem to always hurt my head,
So it's better to awake tomorrow and find that you're not dead.
.
Signed,
A poor day's work.
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