I was a capable, urban professional, quite eagerly living the high life;
Like pink robin, of the saffron noon zenith, afore shadows bloom rife.

My daily work was very challenging, and it allowed me to be creative;
Like the generous stains of colors, which to changing skies, are native.

Since things were going well, with few issues, I believed I was happy,
Like sunbeam roses. Yet, often heard were the words, 'Make it snappy!'

Freshwater pearls free-fell from clouds, in a June of flavorful cherries;
When friends once more fascinated, like frolicking, moonlight fairies!

Flying fish relished fantastic views, before richest, felt night flaunted;
On our glazed Fridays of family, as chocolate cosmos scents haunted.

I lived in the house of buttery clouds, in a sweeping, luxury high-rise.
It overlooked all the sprawling city; and red stars gazed in, like spies.

Several more high-rises stood, on our street of sparkly, sapphire blue.
And it was a short stroll to work, on green paths which yesterday knew.

Gold sun went nectarine and red, when to my door, neighbors plodded;
To be nudged by later, emerald tomorrow, in colors striped and spotted.

Perky ponytail plants twirled, and scarlet pimpernel palms, felt dandy;
And skunk cabbage was quite lonely, like a sad frown, amid the happy.

Tangoing tangelo trees were drawing raves, like moonlit waves roaming;
And joyful jackfruit was pure sweetness, like thrills, coming and going.

Working my long hours every day, I slowly grew tired and discontented,
And I bought a home out in the suburbs, like fall leaving its spot, rented.

I was glad to find a home with three acres, taking me nearer to nature;
But I especially loved the bird house out back, like hued, rainbow favors.

The bird house was very large, and it attracted birds of different species;
Like the governments of different nations, giving joy, with peace treaties.

I still love my vivid job, but now I'm loving life too. I cut back my hours;
And even on my commute, I adore nature and its green, healing powers.

One maroon, magnolia blossom morn, multicolored birds sang madly, as
Dawn hues midst song drew me to my window, as time since spent gladly, has!

'Cock Robin got up early, at the break of day,
And went to Jenny's window, to sing a roundelay.
He sang Cock Robin's love, to the pretty Jenny Wren;
And when he got unto the end, then he began again.'