Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Ode to the forest

Not a sound in the woods
Shrouded with fog,
But that of my feet
As along they plod.
Cobwebs brushing my face,
Bear witness to the fact
That not yet today
Has anyone passed this way.

The peace and quiet part
The mists of my heart,
Leaving solitude and joy;
My life’s ongoing buoy.