One fine evening
When the sun starts to set and sheens like a golden ball of fire
And the canvas of sky painted with tints of orange and red
Like the perfect art piece of picasso
The trees danced happily and the birds chirped sweetly as a perfect masterwork
Seeing those events
the  6 year girl was allured with the beautiful nature
Then she confessed her love for nature
through her poem
She carried the poem in her small delicate  hands and asked her parents to read
They lauded her and kissed her cheeks
14 years later
She still writes now
Not best as Shakespeare and not worst like a toddler
Even when some people bash her and some praise her
The first admirer and critics remain her parents and will always be
Maybe the six year girl is not in love with nature but love with writing