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At the Creek
The water is flowing endlessly over the rocks.
The creek and its banks are bathed in shade
By the trees, strong and tall, at the water’s edge.
Facing the creek sits a wooden bench,
Weathered and worn, nestled between two trees.
Birds chirp happily as they hop
Along the ground or flutter from branch to branch
In search of food for the little ones.
The wind whispers quietly through the trees
As if afraid to disturb the tranquility of the place.
The flowers’ fragrance mixes with the smell
Of fresh earth from along the banks.
I can feel the grass beneath my feet
And the shade provided by the towering trees.
The scene is beautiful, nature’s picture of perfection.