The Poetry Club

Along the path where wildflowers grow,

The winds will sing, the rivers flow.

Your footsteps fade, the earth forgives,

Yet litter scars where nothing lives.

A bottle tossed, a wrapper torn,

Spoils the beauty of the dawn.

Take what you brought, leave nature free,

Carry it home, it’s meant to be.

For mountains thrive when we are kind,

And Nature blooms as she designed.

Tidy the path, let wildness reign,

And let the forest smile again

By Janet Bosson