I Am Not Of The Poetic Kind

I am not of the poetic kind that is how it seems to be In notepaper i only write the rhymes that come to me And often in my rhymes of Nature the praises i do sing The glory of her creative powers in every living thing She is the World's greatest teacher to me anyway From Nature i am learning new lessons every day I am one who loves the quiet place far from the noisy street Off of the roadway to the mountains where the creek and river meet Some tell me in my thinking i have got it all wrong When i say we are of Nature and to her we do belong Far from their way of thinking in my way i have grown But then any two never look at things in the one way and to each their own Though he lives in the mountain parkland to the big town not anywhere near The pleasant fluting of the gray shrike thrush in fancy i do hear.