|
WOOD
SPIRIT
Softly the
night falls, as leaves make my bed.
Quietly I sleep in the woods, peacefully dead.
My prince will come thou I know not when.
He arrives and I awaken then.
Squirrels
play among the trees.
Dropping nuts by my knees.
Crows call in greenly browning branches.
I wait for my prince, asleep.
©
Copyright reserved
No part(s) of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, transcribed,
stored in a retrieval system, or translated into any language in any form by any
means without the written permission of the author.
BACK
TO POEMS
Page backgrounds © Lonely Shell |