The wood is quite peaceful,
Quiet and serene.
The crickets are chirping their sweet, sad, song,
And the colorful leaves stir beneath my feet as I walk.
The wood is indeed, very peaceful,
And I could live here if I were allowed.
The endearing light of the moon,
It seems so unreal.
A painting.
The fair autumn moon
Show me an orange, bronzy color.
The leaves above me show a dress of many colors,
A rainbow in the canopy.
Bright, brilliant reds.
Dazzling, apple greens.
Bright, midday yellows.
Even chocolate browns.
And the sounds,
Clear and nerve easing.
The wise owl's words of advice,
The rousing of the night's creatures.
And that sweet whisper of the wind,
That cool, gentle wind,
It whispers,
Telling me of long ago,
And brushing my soft, chestnut hair behind me.
A few leaves fall
As the wood's wind pulls them free.
But alas,
I soon must leave.
I blow a kiss to the moon,
Still perched in the sky.
She whispers and talks through the wind,
Wishing me a good night
And many sweet dreams.
The dark forms
Begin to take the shape of
Trees and brush and piles of leaves.
The are becoming complex shapes.
The sky is lighting
Showing new colors.
The night's sights and sounds
F a d e
And the morning sun peaks,
No longer hiding under the earth.
And slowly, slowly like a sloth
A new day dawns.
Shunning out the night.
The crickets begin to close their song,
The owl whispers good night
And the moon disappears,
To sleep in her empty space,
The sky.
She rests with her starry friends.
And to her I say goodnight,
Until tonight that is.
Quiet and serene.
The crickets are chirping their sweet, sad, song,
And the colorful leaves stir beneath my feet as I walk.
The wood is indeed, very peaceful,
And I could live here if I were allowed.
The endearing light of the moon,
It seems so unreal.
A painting.
The fair autumn moon
Show me an orange, bronzy color.
The leaves above me show a dress of many colors,
A rainbow in the canopy.
Bright, brilliant reds.
Dazzling, apple greens.
Bright, midday yellows.
Even chocolate browns.
And the sounds,
Clear and nerve easing.
The wise owl's words of advice,
The rousing of the night's creatures.
And that sweet whisper of the wind,
That cool, gentle wind,
It whispers,
Telling me of long ago,
And brushing my soft, chestnut hair behind me.
A few leaves fall
As the wood's wind pulls them free.
But alas,
I soon must leave.
I blow a kiss to the moon,
Still perched in the sky.
She whispers and talks through the wind,
Wishing me a good night
And many sweet dreams.
The dark forms
Begin to take the shape of
Trees and brush and piles of leaves.
The are becoming complex shapes.
The sky is lighting
Showing new colors.
The night's sights and sounds
F a d e
And the morning sun peaks,
No longer hiding under the earth.
And slowly, slowly like a sloth
A new day dawns.
Shunning out the night.
The crickets begin to close their song,
The owl whispers good night
And the moon disappears,
To sleep in her empty space,
The sky.
She rests with her starry friends.
And to her I say goodnight,
Until tonight that is.
