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Autobiography of a Madman

Mother Nature

Does Mother Nature care
When talent she doth make
Falls like a bead of rain
Down waterfall and weir
From spring to estuary
Without once watering
The thirsty willow tree
Or lending its small weight
To turn the miller's wheel
Does the sadness feel?

Can she comprehend
Our complex clockwork moon
Who bends around our world
With beam and smile and frown
Who plays her fluting tune
And wears her crescent crown?
Can Mother Nature see
The pull she has on me?
Does she ever wake in awe?
Does she even care at all?

And does she ever pause
Along her graceful arc
To breathe in fragrances
That flower within the walls
Of her own Eden's park?
Dear Rose or Rosemary
Does she sense the bliss
Of her own clematis
Does she dare reveal
Which flowers to her are real?

Can Mother Nature bear
A tall illustrious Oak
Living in his panoply
Falling from his canopy?
Does she shed a tear
When silent grief sits near?
Well maybe it's enough
That my small heart should ache
For am I not a part of her
A glance of Nature's face?

Ch 1 Candles
Ch 2 Caravan
Ch 3 Nefarious
Ch 4 Rampage
Ch 5 Mother Nature
Ch 6 Swans
Fussell
Memoranda
Teacup
Words Words Words
Nobodies
She
Rose
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