John Smith's

The delicate petals of a blooming flower
The setting sun at evenings hour.
The vastness of the mighty sea
the business of the bumble bee.
The chorus sang to the rising sun
children playing, having fun.
The mountains high, the oceans deep
the rejuvenating of a good night’s sleep.
The mother’s joy to hear her newborn babe
a nest full of eggs, freshly laid.
The rushing wind, a waterfalls song
short winters days, summers long.
A spiders web, a nightingales song
a spikey hedgehog wobbling along.
The winding valley, lush and green
thousands of wonders still unseen.
The beating wings of a pure white dove
the beaming eyes of someone in love.
The loving heart which seeks to be kind
all these things and many more I find.
Fills, engulfs our hearts with awe
and our true desire for all things pure.