Dream of the Forest.
Flowing in the moonlight air,
Tatters in her florid hair,
On her shoulders low and fair,
At midnight in the Forest.
Spinning on the dewey ground,
Twirling on-round and round,
All the leaves do her surround,
At nighttime in the Forest.
Waiting for the day to come,
Staring at the rising sun,
‘Till all the creatures’ sleep is done,
At daybreak in the Forest.
All the silence of night is torn,
Wake up! Wake up! Says the morn,
She twirls again-the night forlorn,
At daybreak in the Forest.
Walking back the flowers bloom,
Along the path will she resume,
Tea time in the afternoon,
Lunchtime near the Forest
Walking through the crowded street,
The clopping of the horses’ feet,
Echoes in the summer’s heat,
An evening in the City.
Adjacent the street lies her haven,
Upon it sits a quiet raven,
The grass around her neatly shaven,
A house in the City.
By her bed a silent prayer,
She sleeps and dreams unaware,
Dreaming of the Forest there,
A Dream of the Forest….
