The Forest



I took a walk beside a forest brook
and saw how nature paints a perfect scene
it steals my breath away each time I look,
like wings of breeze that sweep the waterís sheen.


I shade my eyes against the sun so bright
and smell the fragrant pines and mossy floor
that fades the hooves of deer in quiet light.
I watch the trees that sway and feed my core


with lacey shawls of leaves that dance on air.
The sparrows little chirp is heard aloft
where angels sing in heavenís cloud and stair,
while beads of silver dew are jeweled soft.


The forest whispers scatter ebbing rays
that gleam and promise tendrils dark as night,
while feathered owls rejoice that sunny days
are gone, their nightly tone is rhymes delight.


I stand beside the brook and hear the sounds
amidst the pebbles sprinkled here and there,
its tenor calms my soul as love surrounds
while chiming ripples sing a little prayer.


The forest taught me beauty canít be bought
like emerald fog or lavender mist.
It lives in natureís truth and silent thought
where folds of night and streams of sun exist.



© By Marilyn Terwilleger (mterwilleger@bresnan.net)







 








Those Blue Eyes

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