Swaying in the soft gentle breeze,
succulent green leaves glisten and glow,
catching the sun's golden rays, filtering
through the coppiced canopy above,
reflecting off droplets from heaven;
Bringing the verdant vibrant woods to life.
There's many a story these woods could tell,
If only trees could talk;
Long in the night they'd stand and share,
of the songbird’s sweet call for loves lost,
the snowy owl's nocturnal adventures,
the *****’s screams of ecstasy, or pain.
And let us not forget, the forest fairies fair,
coming out to play on such a glorious morn.
Sunbathing atop a toadstool fly agaric,
Admiring the glistening golden spider's web,
Downing the nectar from a rain soaked leaf.
Washing dainty toes in the morning dew.
But don’t expect to see one.
For they are as timid as the fawn,
yet as brave as the lion.
As delicate as lace,
yet as strong as silk.
But they are there, rest assured.
Keeping the magic of the woods alive,
protecting the spirits of the trees,
and allowing the secrets of the woods to live on,
This is the second poem I’ve written. I wrote it the morning after the storm the night before, which inspired my first poem. I was inspired and lifted by the sun filtering through the trees and reflecting off the glistening vibrant green leaves