The Park

The park is a lively place,
Where ducks quack and creek waters race.
Gazing around, there's so much green,
And gently dancing flowers to be seen.

In spring is when the flowers bloom,
Then summer's heat oppressively looms.
In autumn, the leaves fall, a red-brown cloud,
In winter, it's cold, but the forcing breeze makes a lot of sound.

But now that it's been through the pandemic,
And when we talk about nature, we're not that sympathetic.
We don't go outside, we don't care about nature,
The chance of the park's survival isn't greater.

So we really need to try,
You all know why.
To save the dancing trees,
And how the crystal water's reflection deceives.