Nature's Nectar

Along the long, dreary and precipitous hillside slopes,
Stands still a cabin, atop the canopy of two oaks;
Above the meadows, beneath the magnificent skies,
Underneath the boughs, concealed from prying eyes;
From the windowsill, a pair of dark eyes peer outdoors,
On the other end, honey is stirred and then poured.

Streams of sunshine bathe the cabin with a golden glow,
Pleasant, serene and sweet-smelling gusts of zephyr blow;
In the midst of the pastures, where mysteries are unrevealed-
Sunflowers, buttercups and pansies are swaying in the field;
Bushlarks chirrup a soft symphony like nectar to your ears
Like nectar to your ears, echoing for years and years.