by Ann Neilson

Nature loves to dance and sing,
and dwell among the pretty things,
to drink and dine with the fair king
of all her rolling swells.

His tender blades caress her cheek,
she turns her heart towards him to sing
and through the steady night they’ll cling
among the weeping bells.

The moon lays yonder amidst the tide,
the cobalt waves crash at her side;
she awaits her lover, the luminous sun,
whose flames betook her heart.

At world’s end is where they’ll meet,
each turn and kiss the other’s cheek,
and chat awhile before they’ll sleep—
their time is far too short.

The compassionate love of nature’s bliss
is often looked far over—amiss—
but where jaded minds clash with fists,
nature’s peace shall reign.

The moon and sun, the stars and sky
will upturn their matron eyes
and guide each lonely passerby
who is loveless and in pain.

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