By Profe Steve
The silence of nature Calms me in the evening. The forest is a retreat In which my soul can rest.
Humanity scurries About; pointless errands, Vain tasks; endless circles, Accomplishing nothing.
Sensless competition For moth-eaten prizes Tarnished, rusty medals Gathering dust on shelves.
I leave it all behind To dream beside a stream; Bubbling crystal water That measures not the time.