The Art Of Nature

I look out from my window, The Catkins fill the tree, They look so soft and gentle, As they blow in the Winter breeze, The clouds are forming thick and fast, There's drizzle in the air, The garden looks a hopeless sight, Seeking love and care. But soon it's doors will open, For nature holds the key, Waking up to springtime sun, A lovely sight to see. Shrubs will start to flourish, Fresh planted blooms will grow, Bees will grace the flowers, Sweet loveliness will flow. The finest brush of nature, Will create its special glow, A pure art within itself, Such beauty there on show. Jayne Davies