Passing the glen walking a curving path

Following the red bird, skipping on strath

Trees bend with the winds beaconing

Their invitations to come into the forest

Tall and thick with shadows moving

With ghost lingering, along the road

An overgrown trail of brush and weeds

Little tiny flowers from meandering seeds

Stones and thickets where the doe sleeps

Their fawn suckles until winters birth

The rabbit and the kids nibbling

Eating forest tarots and sweet leaves

She wanders home despite any threats

Her home rests peacefully in the trees

The lights shine welcoming her home

A time to dance and celebrate

A home tucked privately within the small glen

 

 

 

©2016 Bonnie Jennings All Rights Reserved

 

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