When I was eight years old, I wrote this poem in elementary school. I recently came across it and thought it would be fun to share here. Reading it now takes me back to the simplicity of childhood, when every leaf and touch of nature felt magical. I hope it brings you a sense of peace and nostalgia, just as it does for me.
What is Green?
Green is the leaves
Of the newly born trees.
Green is the smell
Of a fresh morning breeze.
Green is the color
Of tall forest pines,
As you sit in the shade
Where the soft moss is made.
Green is the sound
Of a cloudy day,
As the rain starts to drop gently
On your windowpane.
Green is spring
As the church bells ring,
While the sound of birds
As they start to sing.
And green is us running through a meadow,
As if you had wings.
Whispers in the Garden 
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