Accompanied only by the solace of my solitude

wading through the trees and brush.

A blank canvas for creativity and imagination.

A ruined structure among the trees.

a castle, my castle.

The chilled stream flowing through the woods.

A moat, my moat.

The smell of the pine permeating my nostrils;

the feel of the rough bark, the smooth leaves, the luscious grass

My own kingdom of welcomed loneliness.