.
*This forest night belongs to us,
with cool air so fresh and crisp,
held hands follow the tiny lights
of the dancing Will-O'-the-Wisp.
Guiding us through sleeping trees,
along paths that wend and twist,
across glades of woodland grass
bedecked with eerie evening mist.
Leading us to a magickal place
where inhibitions take a loss,
this forest night belongs to us
'pon our bed of soft green moss.*
© Pagan Paul (16/06/18)
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 12:25 PM UTC
.
*This forest night belongs to us,
with cool air so fresh and crisp,
held hands follow the tiny lights
of the dancing Will-O'-the-Wisp.
Guiding us through sleeping trees,
along paths that wend and twist,
across glades of woodland grass
bedecked with eerie evening mist.
Leading us to a magickal place
where inhibitions take a loss,
this forest night belongs to us
'pon our bed of soft green moss.*
© Pagan Paul (16/06/18)
.
Lord of Green series, poem 15.
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/22425/lord-of-green/
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