They lay
In neat little rows
All connected
Veins exposed
Like choirs
In an emerald green
As they began
To sing, and dance
Shimmering, and rustling
Guided by the breeze
Susurrations
Psithurisms
Create the music
Of the emeralds
Gently caressing each other
Briefly
Like a stolen kiss
As they sing
Swish, swish
The wind dies down
The emeralds, fall still
Now silent
Amongst the branches
And aching limbs

by Jemia