The Poetic Forest Bard
Amidst tranquil tweets and hallow hoots
The trail wandered warm, moving - to and fro,
Upon a long tale - hopping right along.
Rabbits, beside grazing deer – feel content.
Babbling brook blends in, rustling gentle leaves.
Cyan sky that billows bright, upon sparkling skylight.
Midmorning balm, adrift flower fragrant
Water colors in paintbrush - softened strokes.
Sashaying poetry alight rhythmic heartbeats
In tune with Mother Nature’s nurtured poems.
Where living things, share biorhythmic vibrations,
Adrift peaceful harmony, sharing tranquil melodies.
Sail alight enlightened celestial feather versed wings.
Meditative calm - chills tensions neural pathways.
Sail, oh sail Poet, so high, you flutter with wide smiles,
For this is a magical place in casting spell wonderment,
Wherein each critter germinates this pure peace time,
A natural paradise wandering among branched forks.
Therein lay this forest dwelling, full of immense surprises,
Wherein musical sounds - abound aloud notes in sensual bliss.
A storyteller bungalow lodging alight magical cast creations.
Whose poetic inspirited verse registers hemisphere harmonics.
That within each creature, there is a blessed creative spirit
Upon the preserve of a Mother Nature gathering forest flock.
Oh Poet Bard, dew wander the paths, as a master rhymester,
Wherein each line flutters free, to compose unique conception.
Nay one says, do not follow - but lead proud with instinct.
Bear the core composite insight, as a seer, bonding with the future.
Rein in that poets must arise to claim a sense tense exist tense.
For the sword of the word, furrows the ground, planting the seed.
From whence did a verse forage alight fairy trails upon forest lands?
From where did a epic voyage start to explore forks onto woodlands?
That in every way lays a new adventure, wearing different landmarks,
Which in every way lays new experiences, to ponder, yonder, hinterland.
Come yea troubadour and spread your tales upon the heartland
Where the heartbeats vibrate the brilliance of poetry landscapes.
HeArtMosphere Poet
This is the time when the Bard has his muse turned up to high productivity capturing the moment and the essence of the forest glade or glen. Beside the bubbling babbling brook.
Ron