Bucolic World
In fields of green and skies of blue,
Where nature’s beauty blooms anew,
Lies a world untouched by time,
A place so pure, so sublime.
This is the land of bucolic dreams,
Where life flows as gentle as streams,
And the sun’s warm embrace,
Kisses every living face.
Here, the air is filled with sweet scents,
Of flowers, fruits, and all that’s meant
To nourish and delight,
In this tranquil, idyllic sight.
The hills roll on for miles and miles,
As we walk through nature’s aisles,
The grass beneath our feet,
A soft and cushioned treat.
In this poem of bucolic grace,
We find a peaceful, sacred space,
Where the worries of the world,
Are gently unfurled.
The birds sing their melodic tune,
The bees hum in sweet commune,
And all is in perfect harmony,
In this bucolic symphony.
As we lay on the soft, green grass,
And watch the clouds as they pass,
We feel a sense of calm and peace,
In this bucolic release.
Oh, how fortunate we are,
To witness nature’s grandeur,
In this poem of bucolic bliss,
We find solace, we find our kiss.
So let us immerse ourselves,
In this bucolic world, where nature delves,
And rejuvenates our souls,
In its tranquil, healing folds.
For in this poem of bucolic delight,
We find a respite from the daily fight,
And bask in the beauty of this land,
A true paradise, in our hands.
