Water colored pale blue skies with patchy clouds
Over foggy almost hidden hills of far away green-
Lightest as if painted trees on lower slopes
All in its self a picture ever so supreme-
Darker shades of tall green trees closer stood
Behind hazey fields outlined in fences of stone_
Away in the distance ever gentle smoke rises
From a what seems the smallest country home-
Closer now bushes in spotted areas here and there
Down to the banks in the foreground so near-
Of a largest as if touched with silver lake
And it's refection's all seems so clear-
A smallest gathering of swan upon same
As if drifting together upon the lakes sheen-
A view ever superbly beautiful to the eye
All as if so gently painted within a dream-
Two birds side by side away fly ever so high
Across the pastel as if painted blue sky above-
All is silently a canvas so still to be seen
Only sound to be heard is the single call of a dove-
A scene as if painted upon a canvas on display
How such a view remained so as if deliberately still-
waiting to be captured in time for someone to find
And reproduce it all on canvas with brush or with quill_
Such beautiful poetic paintings of landscapes in reality
Await to be captured in the mind of all they-
By those with the ability to hold and record such beauty
With pen and with brush in their way-