In a meadow where roses fade to blue, Violets whisper secrets the wind once knew. Goats leap 'round the barns, aged and wise, On hardstanding paths where the dusk light lies. Amidst rustic tales and grounding earth, A humming meter measures worth— Its silent pulse of power discreet, In rhythmic cadence, quiet yet fleet. Nature and time in harmony meet, In this pastoral dance, soft and sweet.