There are no Buttercup Snowflakes
That we know of . . .
Or Naturistic Rings around our Moon
Nor Cats, that love to do the two step with the next-door Pooch named Spud
Who tends to thud his way across the stage
Still, we’ve got a lot of Goodness
Wafting from our fragrant Kitchens
From those who don the Aprons in our Homes
While the River runs and runs
Always headed somewhere else
Underneath our trusty Sun, a-blazing…from its far-off point of view
Until Stars dot the clearest Nighttime Sky
So Lucky are the Beings here
Who Cherish this Living Orb in Space
One Garden Globe within the Cosmosphere
It’s time to recognize what we hold Dear