[kirsten]

A passer-by might with a casual look,
Observe the trees beside his lonesome path,
But under closer scrutiny he'd find,
Things only thought to be in ancient tales,
Had made their happy homes beneath the boughs.

These trees themselves were not your oak or elm,
The moaning in the wood was not the wind,
The trees they were alive as you and me,
They groaned with weight of many lengthy years,
Remembering when the earth was blithe and young.

And there within this forest one could taste,
A bit of what the earth had been before,
When pain and suffering had not reared their heads,
To cruelly mar the beauty of our earth,
This paradise was there beneath these trees.

Within the dense green foliage of the wood,
Away, far from the hard and beaten path,
A waterfall rolled down the glossy stones,
Though large enough to make a deafening roar,
It sang a soft melodious lullaby.

A soft and silver mist rose from the falls,
This mist enveloped everything around,
It graced the leaves with tiny crystal drops,
And laced the ground with silvery spots of dew,
Exerting power over all that entered there.

Effects of this strange mist might be the cause,
Of strange and wondrous visions that were seen,
Of apparitions flitting in the dark,
Or were these sights, mysterious and unknown,
Of flesh and blood, real elves among the leaves.

If some wayfarer stumbled in this realm,
The exit then forever closed would be,
More by the wish to stay then by a force,
There in this lovely eden here on earth,
He'd ever stay, not caring of aught else.

And on it lives as at it's infant breath,
Unknown to those that pass it's outer leaves,
And undisturbed by any hurt or woe,
It's magical effects remain confined,
Unknown to all the rest, Alone.

Author's note: This was my first atemp at writing in blank verse. It was inspired by the Ozarks of Missourri.

[BookWhale***]

This is well written - I picture a magical forest with a huge waterfall, and dewed leaves... ah, sweet memories...

[Epsilonist]

Excellent imagery here, kirsten. I'm originally from New England but currently living in a rather treeless area of the Midwest. I miss my forests. In this piece, you beautifully capture the mystery and solemnity that an old forest can have. Thanks for writing!