It’s Akin to His Handiwork

It's about time
you stopped and
looked at my Art
it's tantamount
to my Heart.
rolling hills where
grasses smell of spring.


streams descend and
carry tads to legs
killdeer begs you
leave the young alone
seeming broke and prone.
giraffe eats high
his neck approaches sky.
sea turtles lay their young
unguarded beach race run.
new calf is cleansed by Mother
the bond is like none other.


And sounds fantastic
Booming surf
Gulls laughing at
Their agile sport.
Wings that comb
The Prairie wheat.
Wolf lament under
Half moon.
Smells of fallen Autumn.
Of June roses.


Capice?
all bespeak a ken
for lovely things.
Imaginative things.
Creator  brings.