Beauty is the painting of paths
That men had never walked or seen
Like the pebbles which count not their existence
Beauty walks through the ranges and fjords
With shadows of pines and winter trees all about
And tree logs sailing quietly on the lonely waterway
Beauty is the art of tranquility
It is peace that comes with quietness,
The sands that lay on beaches stretched far away
Quietly for years, unperturbed, sitting on one another
With backgrounds of green tropical forests and rocks
And a wide variety of flora and fauna
Beauty is painting of the sea
Some are black, some light blue
Some a mild red and a patch of cream
But the hues match with that of the skies
So that the canoes look like middlemen
Caught in-between the clouds and sea
