The cool air of a spring breeze
Kisses the verdant canopies
And fireflies pop neon light
Upon the sylvan halls,
Daring to catch magic by early twilight.

Chasing majesty watching for the fae
As shooting stars sparkle like fairy dust
And the moon’s dim light shines upon a fawn,
There is a calming silence
In a zephyr wisp along the whispering woods,
There is violence in the way leaves dance
Just before an early morning rain
As night is choked back by the coming dawn.

I’ll take umbrage here,
Under the lively oak—
In this forest villa where
Arboreal ancients,
Spirit me with hope.