I love a lonely winding road
That takes me where I cannot see
Until each softly rounded hill
Reveals its landscaped mystery.
Where nature's stage creates the plot,
What ever the scene may be.
I love the crocus call in spring,
The first to wake from winter's sleep.
Translucent bits of ivory joy,
So patient under snow banks deep,
'Til they can lift each star like face
And proudly nature's rhythm keep.
I love the fiery autumn hues,
Too harsh to bear in gentle spring
But welcomed by the strident wind
That makes the mighty pine tree sing,
Freeing the crimson leaves that dance
Like bright birds, high on wing.
I love the wonders of this world,
The secrets nature guards so well
From those who have no time to spend,
Who will not lift the ocean's shell
And listen to the murmured tale
That each one has to tell.
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