To Me From Summer Meadows

To me from Summer meadows come the pleasant scent of hay
And I hear the finches singing on the hedgerows far away
And to the shallows of the sunlit river pool the minnows venture out
The red spotted silvery little fishes who will grow into brown trout,
In the old grove by the river the male robin I hear and see
In the soft and warm winds singing on a sunlit alder tree
And the tree creepers are chirping as they clamber up and down
The tree trunks in their search for insects in the wood beside the town
And the lark above the bracken carolling upwards as he fly
Until he becomes a small speck in the blue and sunny sky
Legend has it he sings for angels somewhere up by heaven's gate
Such things of immortal beauty do not have a use by date,
All of the things that one can bring to life by simply closing their eyes
And imagining Nature's great beauty 'tis not hard to visualize.