my poems

forest

deep in the forest,

where many can't go, 

she had laid to rest,

beneath the willow.

weary drifting away,

in such a serene peace.

staying there day to day,

her home was with the trees.

Untouched by man,

such delicate grace.

Since it began,

her and that place.

Both with a spirit,

that's ever so free.

Just to revere it,

is what's meant to be.

So why do we hack,

slashing and tearing?

Trees fell with a crack,

did it uncaring.