Stalking through woods so late at night
I see a group out in the wild
Earth coloured dresses, hats, and suits
a dim lit place below arched roots
A bat of wings, then steps are heard
as wind stirs up the dried-out earth
There emerges a figure not too far
putting light into the dark
That was the man, the forest's heir
spoke those words, till then unsaid
seemed to be an unheard prayer
A wooden crown atop his head
so beautifully stood there
in forest green and autumn red
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Little Somethings - A Poetry Collection
PoetryA collection of poetry in various genres such as: love, society, philosophy and fiction