Ma Nature's always been my muse,
precocious, teasing, sometimes wild.
She's flighty, unpredictable,
a tantalizing woman/child.

She greets me every day at dawn
with glist'ning eyelids damp with dew.
A flash of sunshine in her smile
prompts me to write a poem or two.

An entourage of birds she brings:
a flock of sparrows, doves galore,
shy yellow finches, cardinals.
These friends, of course, make me write more.

If I but see a tree in bud,
inhale sweet lilac in a breeze,
or hear the honking geese above,
I'm apt to scribble similes.

Her very presence stirs my mind
to verbalize creatively,
to whittle images from words,
and think more metaphorically.

She whispers from the scattered stars
and stares with moon-kissed eyes at night.
"Don't try to sleep. It's perfect now.
Pick up your pen. Begin to write."