There is a place hidden
deep within the forest
Where the moss grows
Dark emerald green
a pride of trees gather
to conceal those green, growing things

Places above the forest floor
birds raise their young
living fragile though unafraid
the cricket and the whippoorwill alike
Find a home on the forest floor

All the sweet smelling grasses
Grow uninhibited while
A soft gentle rain, a shower
Nourishes life beneath the sun

Leaves, trees and grass
soft to the touch let footsteps roam
Above the branches lift high a canopy
To shield all those below
From a storm or sudden shower

While a rainbow is born
consummate of rain with sun
Sweet smells grow sweeter still
Mingling and mixing in green places
Where the moss grows