Her Garden of Wonder

 

She sips on tea where flowers bloom,
Amidst the forest's sweet perfume,
Each breeze a lullaby of grace,
A quiet smile upon her face.

Her love for nature, pure and bright,
she finds her muse in morning light,
Where trees and rivers softly blend,
And art begins where branches bend.

She's drawn to creatures wild and free,
To birds that sing from every tree,
To deer that tread on paths unknown,
She walks beside them, not alone.

Her hands, a touch of soft caress,
She paints their world with tenderness,
In every brushstroke, hues unfold,
The stories of the woods retold.

The sun sets low in golden rays,
She breathes in life's unhurried ways,
With tea in hand and heart at ease,
She dances with the rustling leaves.

Her soul's entwined with nature's art,
With every leaf and wild heart,
She sees the magic in the garden,
In gentle beasts and all unseen.

For she's the keeper of small things,
Of fur and feather, paw and wings,
A woman wrapped in nature's spell,
Where art and life in beauty dwell.

In every sip, she tastes the dew,
Of morning's kiss in shades of blue,
And in the wild's embrace, she knows -
Her spirit like the river flows.

She loves the earth, the sky, the sea, 
 The way they set her being free,
And as she paints, she lets it be - 
An artful ode to nature's glee.

So let her rest where blossoms part,
With animals close to her heart,
A life or tea, of art, and song - 
Where she, with nature, will belong.