A blank canvas, a palette of colors, A brush in hand, a world to discover, The artist's mind, a boundless land, Where creativity and passion expand.
By Munthas A2 months ago in Poets
Books, oh how they hold such power, With pages full of stories to devour. A journey awaits, within each binding, With tales of love, adventure, and finding.
Majestic peaks rise high, Piercing the sky with their majesty, A sight that never fails to catch the eye, A wonder of nature's tapestry.
In fields of green, a fruit does grow That warms the soul with its radiant glow With skin so smooth, a shade so bright
In orchards green and lush they grow, A fruit that tempts both high and low, Its skin so bright, its scent so sweet, The apple's tale is hard to beat.
With eyes that gleam like emeralds bright, And fur as soft as moonlit night, The cat does prowl and hunt with grace, A creature of exquisite face.
In the verdant fields of the forest fair, There roams a creature beyond compare, With iridescent plumes so bright and rare,
In the forest of green, Lived a parrot so serene, With feathers of blue and green, And a beak so sharp and keen. The parrot's plume was a sight to see,
Glass, a material of wonder, A symbol of delicacy and might, Transparent, translucent or opaque, It has many shades of light.
In African plains, they roam so grand, With wrinkled skin and trunks so grand, The gentle giants, oh so kind, A sight to see, a sight to find.
Soft and furry, with eyes so bright, The bunny hops with all its might. Through fields of green and gardens fair, The bunny scurries here and there.
Oh, how I adore the mango's song, A symphony of sweetness all day long. Its scent wafts through the air so fair, A treasure found beyond compare.
