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Nothing brings me greater joy Than to hold out my arms And hug the world Thanking the motherland for every trail Every bump, pebble, and stone in the road Leading to a worthy destination
The pristine colors of brush and grass swirl together like paint on an artist's hand after a day's work. Deep green cedars sprout, like rocks out of the sea, from the pastel yellow and purple tide of aging grass.
A dazzling Gleam of wonderous joy Such a dangerous yet entertaining toy The fire dances a whimsical jig It leaps and sparks and grows to be big. Man needs fire as fire needs fuel
Earth Vulnerable dream Protecting, mending, reusing Luscious oceans and thriving lands Home
a sky of blackbirds and blue jays does never cross my mind as much as deserts and cacti all be in short supply. and though i of the sea proclaim the safety of my heart
As I lie here all around me I see A whole world of creativity The Birds, oh how they sing With their little ones under their wing
Cycle! Recycle, man! Do not throw away stuff. Used items can become new ones. Cycle!
The beach, where the ocean overflows with joy at the presence of her visitors. Aching to touch, yearning to love. Her waves push forward onto the beach to wash upon your toes.
Run Rhino Run Let your thundering stomp reverberate among the mountains Echoing your heartbeat like an angry African drum
Imagine free-falling from the mountainside to the earth. Watch the trees die and woods stand still in mourning. Can you feel that, the tell-tale heart pitter-pattering with adrenaline? Or is it nerves,
When life gives you lemons, pucker your face at their sourness. Know that free stuff totally rocks
The early bird chirps at the rising sun. The street kid holds close his precious tin of glue. A student hurries to school eager to learn. The poet smiles at the beautiful sky so blue.
Let’s give a moment of silence for the tomato-red ladybug, Who reminds us that ambling
I don’t have the street smarts
Deep in the mountains there lies an oasis The remanent of the natives of ancient
The Northern Atlantic Right Whale was nearly driven to extinction by whalers who killed them because they were the easiest whale to hunt. In today's society,
I'm a country boy Growing up in the fields of the valley's heights The stars bright shining over me The sweet smell of the pasture in the morning The fresh air and open land Animals roam wild
I am tough, I am strong. My shell protects me from all around - except from these creatures that don’t belong
Pearls of drops are ours to count As graceful as they fall, So as to, later, try to mount The throne of pride o'er all.
Child, so humble, so innocent Sun-kissed by golden streaks of warmth, Ray's gift of beauty to us. Hush, listen, for on summer days Like these, you can hear the wind Whispering secrets, tales of creation.