Appreciation

The first day has come to a close, 

And my sun-baked mind will now release

Those quiet reflections that hover and increase,

That love of nature which, with due reverence, grows and grows. 

I will here set down my closest thoughts, my dearest skill-

The art of appreciation:

The Sun pulls a distant range

Of fire-rimmed waves before its face

And the Island breathes with life and relief, revealing grace

Unexpected. The trees estrange 

Themselves from their wonted hues.

As the sun sinks, they slowly draw over their heads

Their glaringly gaudy dresses - sharp golds and reds-

And toss them towards the sky's deep blues.

Thus bare, they bask in the glow

Of the slow-draining sky, and the moon,

And themselves. So they must be nature's gift- 

Her soft attempt to show

That men alone build walls

Around their hearts; they become blind

To the Beauty luminous in Nature's many forms,

And they "protect" themselves against the ocean's soothing squalls. 

My dearest possession, although sometimes hard to relate, 

Is the ability to love, to find what others might miss, 

To appreciate this world, and help define its fate.