I LIke To Pen Rhymes

I am not a poet that I have said before
I am just a rhymer that and nothing more
In the Literary World not worthy of note
I've never pretended for to be a poet.

I pen rhymes of the lark with the musical bill
That carols so sweetly above the brown hill
A disappearing speck in the clouds of the sky
His music grows fainter as upwards he does fly.

I like to pen rhymes of the silver tongued rill
That to the big river babbles with a will
At the start of it's journey to the sea far away
It never stops babbling by night or by day.

I like to pen rhymes of the wild birds of song
Some of them by their voices one cannot get wrong
I grew to love Nature long before my life's prime
And my love for her is undiminished by time.

I loved reading the poems of the old bards as a boy
And penning rhyme now is a thing I enjoy
But we all look at life one might say differently
At least anyway that's how it seems to me.