There was a witch
In the meadow near the forest
Living in a tiny house
With walls of woods
And roof of grass

There was a witch
Dressed in black
Picking Chamomile,
Sage and Thyme,
Rosemary, and Mint and Chives

There was a witch
Dancing in the night
When the moon was high
And the stars all out
Singing a song that no one knew

And I couldn’t help to wish to be that witch
For she lived happy and simple

black branches of memories
fill the space of asking, dear
frost is wandering over your face
as you trying to wash away the past

black branches of ruins
the land of destroyed desires
numbers are useless, speed up
as dem shadows are scenting you

black branches of the woods
naked, purple-eyed like zinfandel
clearing the way, get out of here!
wired thorns ripping off your skin

black plumage of the crow
attachments burn fiercely in hell
nobody is to blame for, brother
in deep respect, esteemed sister

Out in the woods as I walk,
Senseless time had passed,
Watching the leaves fell on the feet,
Green has turned into black,
So much trunk, all around me,
No one else there to be seen,
How did I end up so much deep?
Only the dream could tell,
I wish only the dream could tell.

Do you hear the cry's within these woods?
Can you almost feel their pains while they
are still crying out for help in the pouring
of rain, while Dark Angel walks about calling
them so many bad names, making them feel ashamed
as he tells them they are making him do these things.
- Judy Emery © 1980 The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery

Cicadas singing
Crescendo in the dark wood
Summer's droning chorus

The woods are calling
Calling my name
Come to us
Be with us
Be one with us

So I packed up my tent and my Ghillie Stove
Put my hiking boots on
And made my way
Into the deep dark woods
The magnificent majestic ancient woods
Full of beech, oak and hornbeam

I felt at peace once again
Amongst my friends
The tree spirits
And wood nymphs.

Swaying in the soft gentle breeze,
succulent green leaves glisten and glow,
catching the sun's golden rays, filtering
through the coppiced canopy above,
reflecting off droplets from heaven;
Bringing the verdant vibrant woods to life.

There's many a story these woods could tell,
If only trees could talk;
Long in the night they'd stand and share,
of the songbird’s sweet call for loves lost,
the snowy owl's nocturnal adventures,
the *****’s screams of ecstasy, or pain.

And let us not forget, the forest fairies fair,
coming out to play on such a glorious morn.
Sunbathing atop a toadstool fly agaric,
Admiring the glistening golden spider's web,
Downing the nectar from a rain soaked leaf.
Washing dainty toes in the morning dew.

But don’t expect to see one.
For they are as timid as the fawn,
yet as brave as the lion.
As delicate as lace,
yet as strong as silk.
But they are there, rest assured.
Keeping the magic of the woods alive,  
protecting the spirits of the trees,
and allowing the secrets of the woods to live on,
For evermore