Here I sit under a tree,
An open book is upon my knee.
I cannot concentrate
On the words you see.
The distractions of nature surround me.
I notice the squirrel
Sitting in the tree.
I listen to the birds
As they fly in song.
I’m aware of the buzzing sound
From a passing bee.
I’m hypnotized by the graceful flight
Of a beautiful butterfly.
It stops to rest
Upon my open book,
Then lazily dances around my head.
I watch the trees shed their Polly nose seeds.
The wind softly glides their descent,
And they all cover me.
The fragrance of the air intoxicates me
While the sound of a nearby brook
Seems to lull me to sleep.
Here I sit under a tree.
This unread book upon my knee.
Yet I have my full
Of all there is to see.
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