A hush falls soft where wild things grow,

Beneath the suns warm, golden glow.

The meadow beneath the gentle signs,

With petals turned to blushing skies

Butterflies drift, a lazy ballet,

While beers hum tunes through blooms all day.

The grasses sway in tender rows,

And cradle dreams the earth bestows.

Here time forgets its ticking sound,

And peace like clover fills the ground.

A painted hush, a fragrant air—

The wildflowers bloom without a care.