Dry crying
with your mistless tongue
gacking and clatting
(a toy tapping out the winding
in its clockwork mockery)
Dry crying your devotions
and gloved family
into nothing more than vented memory
Your pores pelt vapor
You treaten thinner
stern thing
true to your wood
Dry to make your soldier state
Link rank with your troop mate
Crop your mind foreign of frills
Pay attention with your brothers in drill

Find a piece in the wood
Cause i'm tired of the world that become so rude
The darkness get ready to put
Standing there Mr. Bunny wearing perfect suit
Offering me to **** the mood

You left
A footprint
On the wood panel
In front of me

Your wet soles
From dewed grass
And drunk squats

Your mark
Lays upon me
I know you’re near
But not here

The gentle space,
Fertile air,
Dappled light,
Some here,
Some there

Textured trunks,
Shiny leaves,
Hiding moths,
That soon
May be

Quiet sounds,
All around,
Pierced by calls,
Snapped twigs
And more

The scents, the smells,
The sweet bluebells,
That time is bliss,
You must not miss,
A wander in a wood

There's a woody house overthere.bring my steps solidly.crip crop... I'm freezing mostly.in this time of the day it's not very shocking to be cold.
The weather is snowing with a box of cheer the winter have been carrying.I move towerd the woody house.open the door.light the candles& sit on the cozy couch.breath deeply.bring my guitar& play the part you like.you turn on your recorder.happily you drink your coffee.then I read a book about great hearts.it says nothing breaks like a heart even you need someone help you sweep the pieces of your broken heart.then a sudden phone call arised.
Umm... hello? _ hi Kelsey.this is Mery. oh Mery I missed you girl.how are you? _ I'm fine.where are you now? _ I'm in the country resting in my cozy woody house._well Saturday is Mery Christmas .would you like to join us? _of course. Then....

Tucked between bark and the life blood of trees
Shrouded in shadows and leaves
Deep at the core of the heartstrings of woods
From magic and elmwood conceived

Living in silence but also in wood
Falling for none but the axe
Standing in stillness, her shroud is a cage
Her only consolements are tracks

She watches and wishes as travelers come
Hoping that one will commit
To chopping her life giving elm cage away
And helping her learn to forget

A man did just that in the forest one day
He swung and his axe whistled through
She fell to the ground and she tried to get up
But her elm cage had trapped her there too