The Summer heat was fading slowly,
as nature mixes dies
to paint the leaves of all her trees
in ruddy autumn shades.
The birds were frisking happily,
freed from chores each day,
for all the chicks had fled the nest
so parents now could play.
Hand in hand beneath the trees,
he stopped to pick a flower,
then held it 'neath her lovely throat,
to check if she loved him,
as smitten lovers of the world
have done since man began,
unsuspecting all were trapped
in Nature's breeding plan.
The rest will follow history,
and children you will breed,
thus Nature's needs will be fulfilled
for furthering each race.
Now, if you think you have a choice,
forget that naive thought,
for Nature's sales-pitch always wins,
and you have just been caught.