I would be a poet of sorts of me one might say
And though the need for literary recognition is beyond my desire
Of singing Nature's praises i for one cannot tire
Though my wonderment of her it only does grow
Of Nature and her ways so little i can claim of to know
But the more we learn of her the more we come to realize
That of her we know little this is not a surprise
Yes so much about her remains to be known
Nature the one who has ways of her own
One can say of her there is much to admire
To write of and sketch her the writers and artists she inspire
Her wonders are many and her secrets not few
And every day of her we learn something new.
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