Those shimmering host of lilies ,
silent yet, Naughty geese,
And the lake beside this scene serene,
Devising for me this world of green.
Whining inside those concrete walls,
I abandoned the place gross.
And mingle in tangible glee,
Benedictory for the real mee.
The cherry leaves turning dark green,
On BlackBerry bushes, fruits can be seen.
High in the spruce tree, a hawk-cuckoo calls,
Under the tress I sprawl, eager for the falls.