Nature's a Wizard
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She morphs into a sultry Summer's morn
garbed in a cloak of alabaster fog,
gossamer thin and casually worn.
And echoing the croaks of a bullfrog;
She stops to carry on a dialogue,
with croaks too numerous to catalog.
Slipping on Her slippers of sparkling dew,
She inks an ebony horizon red;
as the sun rises in a sky of blue.
Shadows get resurrected from the dead;
while spiders dangling from a silken thread,
spin dream-catcher webs that fill flies with dread.
Nature's a wizard at staging effects;
like scarlet sunsets, the jungles of green
and vivid colors of birds and insects.
Wherever we go, She's already been;
let's keep Her rivers, seas, and oceans clean,
Her mood can change; She's not always serene.
I hear Her whisper secrets to the wind,
like Spring's approaching or the ice has thinned.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2020
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