The Woods Poem by Teresa Dearing

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
Miles and miles, their mysteries keep.
As the crystal streams and rivers flow,
The floors of lush green carpet grow.

In a quite world that seems to creep,
Living, breathing, never to sleep.
Gods cathedral, it's beauty astounds,
Far from the noise of city or town.

In the woods so dark and deep,
Where the light is wont to seep,
The silence screams all around,
Beating heart, the only sound.

Llisten to the woods, so dark and deep,
And hear the bear, grumbling in his sleep,
The stalking wolf or the prey that flees,
Sweet the song of birds up in the trees.

The deep woods lie in a twlight place,
Where magic and mystery have their space.
In the darkest woods, witches keep,
While deep in the caves, wizards sleep.

The air is so fresh, pure, and clean,
Smells of pine, fir, and ever green,
Towering woods, majestically tall,
Leaving mankind, so infantly small.

Smaller still the wee faries there,
That sit upon their mushroom chair,
Some say they play and laugh all night,
The pranks they play, a childs delight.

When the mighty oaks and maples leaf,
The woods are cool, the sun's relief.
And as the winds of winter blow,
The cornafirs stand toe to toe.

When winter dresses all in white,
Purest snow with ice crystals bright,
Sparkling in the pale moon light,
The woods then settle for their night.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
And in their care I'd like to sleep,
But there are promices to keep,
And miles to go.......

And miles to go berore I sleep......