I sit on the hilltop high above the vale,
Occasional white balls of cloud
Sail so gently passed me,
Painted with natures brush,
On a canvas of pale blue.
I look down the valley
At the vista that the artist has created.
I see greens of many shades,
The deep green on the leaves of trees,
Interspersed with the lime greens in fields.
The vast panoply so varied;
The splashes of yellow
Intermingled with browns and red
Of earth and clay, natures birthplaces,
Covering the valley before me.
The river, meandering majestically below,
Sparkling from the beams of light
Passed down from the golden sun.
The river, like a moving brush,
Sending succour and colour to the fields.
Nature’s canvas set out all around me
For me to enjoy in this world;
And the symphony of birdsong
Adding to the natural art
Which I cherish with love and wonder.