In a meadow where green grass sways,
A humble flower in the sun's warm embrace.
Beneath a sky so vast and white,
Nature's canvas in pure delight.
A fountain whispers a liquid song,
A melody where joy belongs.
Its waters dance with colors bright,
Reflecting the spectrum of pure light.
Upon the hill, where dreams unfold,
A rainbow weaves tales of stories untold.
Paint of sorrow, wiped away,
Replaced by hues of a hopeful day.
Amidst the blooms, a humble bloom,
Whispers grace and scents the gloom.
Colors blend, a vibrant spill,
Nature's palette, a timeless thrill.
But beware the shadows on the hill,
Where whispers hint of a darker thrill.
For in the quiet, a bill may rise,
A toll paid in nature's compromise.
Yet, let the paint of sorrow dry,
Replaced by the color of the sky.
In every petal, a tale to instill,
A story of life, a beauty to fulfill.
