How quaint a sight this gentle frame
As nature bears forth her fruit.
A meadow serene, yet full of life
Fresh air doth it dare to bring.
God grants to us of sheer delight
And tempts us with His Grace, and Might
For all to see untouched by hand
this Meadow Green.
The birds, the trees are all unseen
For time stood still
While Grace breathed in,
Whilst God stretched forth His Hand
For want of love, and beauty dwell
Upon this meadow, and it’s dream.
© Sharon-Elizabeth Walker, 2012