I Sing Songs Poem by Peter S. Quinn

I Sing Songs

I sing songs I heard in the playful breeze,
Where whispers weave through leaves in soft ballet,
A serenade from earth, the skies, the seas,
A hymn of life that gently finds its way.

In morning's light, where dewdrops dance and gleam,
The notes arise with hope in every tune,
Each rustling leaf, a part of nature's scheme,
A harmony beneath the sun and moon.

The wind's caress, a lover's tender touch,
Brings melodies from far-off distant lands,
A symphony that time has cherished much,
In nature's choir, the heart's song understands.

I sing the songs the breeze has softly sown,
In every breath, a story of my own.