June 19, 2013
by Hanne Hartmann-Phipps
Reeds Spring, Missouri
September, 2003
(Note: All poems are copyrighted)
The night wind whispers softly through the leaves,
And rushes by the babbling brook with ease.
The birds sing a gleeful song to the weeping willow,
As deer settle down on a soft mossy pillow.
As dusk becomes a murky blanket that covers the earth,
Nocturnal sounds fill the air with wonder and mirth.
Nature is a most glorious place to behold and treasure,
It gives us never-ending and serene pleasure.
But, tragically, nature unprotected will not survive for long,
And soon will only murmur the echo of a once-beautiful song.
For without our stewardship and care,
The wilderness will have nothing left to spare.