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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #1534326
A nature poem

Nature shares an artist's peek
with sculptures well defined.
Displayed along a gentle creek,
her canvas is Devine.

Viewed within a camera lense,
the essence of my dreams.
Her spirit's there to always cleanse,
my soul in warm sun beams.

Waters from the snow melt fall
on smoothly polished stones,
flowing by the muddy banks
and all the brown pine cones.

On its way through rolling hills,
beneath an eagle's gaze;
reflections of a dream fulfilled,
Nature's beauty is ablaze.

Hidden in the tallest pines
where wise old hoot owls lurk
and in the mountain peaks so high
you'll find her handiwork.

Then the creek is lost for good
and swallowed by the sea.
Thus the cycle carries on;
into infinity.

T.L. Finch

the creek runs
© Copyright 2009 T.L.Finch (t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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