To the Reaper's scythe all things of life must fall
There is a last day and night for us all
Except for Nature she will be living on
When the breath of life from you and I long gone
We are like her Seasons to life we come and go
And her big rivers to her great oceans flow
She is present from the north to the southern shore
The one who is destined for to live forever more
Were I a poet a poem for her I'd write
That poetry lovers would feel happy to recite
Her secrets hidden even from the enlightened few
And every day from her we learn something new
To pen this rhyme to her me she inspire
And so much about her to love and admire.
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