I Never Did Claim

I never did claim to be worthy of note
And you've never heard me say that i am a poet
I am one who has penned reams of doggerel
And why should i fear death if living is hell
Of Summer and Autumn, Winter and Spring
The Seasons of Nature the praises i sing
The life forms of land and of river and sea
Nature and her secrets a mystery to me
I have loved our Earth Mother since i was a boy
And walks in her woods and parks i enjoy
The songs of the birds and the soughing of the breeze
That makes rustling sounds amongst the leafy trees
A penner of slipshod rhyme may describe me
Since a poet i could never profess for to be.