Mother Nature’s Secret Meadow

A solitary grotto

bathed by the sun.

A secret meadow

Seen by none

But the woodland creatures

Who frolic and run.

Through rain or snow,

There’s work to be done.

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Within the boundaries

Of the woodland’s various trees,

The grotto sits,

a natural relief.

Its design – flawless,

with a carpet of clover-leaf,

and a canopy

of magnolia trees,

blossoming.

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The pinkish petals drop

and flutter to the ground.

And from the treetops,

Come lyrical sounds.

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Birdsongs fill the air –

Sweet, melodic breezes.

It reaches down and teases

the fur of a hare.

But Hopper’s too busy munching

On sweet clover to care.

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This is where

Mother Nature

Cultivates her craft.

And upon these endless acres,

You’ll find Creation’s first draft.

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Her elemental aura

Is a reflection

Of all the fauna and flora.

A chronic resurrection

Of her beauty and her might

And her eternal light.

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_{Written for the Fandango One Word Challenge #FOWC – ‘Design‘}