Nature We Protect

Gracefully clasping red roses in my palm,  

Embracing memories of my past's gale that's calmed,  

Running through the rose fields that abate,  

Gripping on to the rose's thorns that are serrate.  

'Nature, we protect' is what I've assuredly believed. 

The veracity is surely what nurtures to be perceived. 

Scented scarlet red roses, swaying emerald, green palm trees. 

Quivering and whiffing blissfully with the breeze.

Lavender pink, purple and blue glowing in the sky like the sun, 

Clouds fading away with their usual errand completed and done. 

Sunset is coming shortly, before the civil twilight. 

Too beautiful, appealing and elegant for my sight. 

Dear little, sweet mockingbird, flying up and high. 

Too reluctant to come down from the sunset and the sky.  

Flying over the dancing trees and prancing sunflowers, 

Swishing wind singing, impeccably arranged and flawlessly stowers. 

Imitated royal orange sunset falling into the night.  

Yet elegant, too distressed before darkness formerly blight. 

Up forges the moon, as bright as a star, overtaking dawn, 

Admiring nature, waiting for a new day to be born.