The natural world is rendered pure
By eyes not cynical enough
To make hearts die beleaguered by
Bludgeon to self rough
The trees are clearly perfect
The birds have not a fault
I am natures prefect
Who fathoms in her vaults
To friends of nature - I'm friends of you
Your diligence I salute
I'll think of you when tempted to rue
For trespasser in to peace commute