In stealth I sit, in forest, deep
Ere the light of morning
As clouds collect, my spirit craves
The shower, fast approaching
A cloak of olive casts facade
Amorphous, I appear
No form, but dry, beneath the folds
To bask in heaven’s joyful tears
Fedora’s brim beneath the hood,
From eyes, the drib, restrains
And clamor fades to inner peace
With the patter of the rain
Copyright C R Clark-5/7/2008
A capturing write Richard! Super metaphors on how you feel, deep, hidden, in the forest! Great read ! ! *10*! ! Friend Thad
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a contented peaceful feeling this projects. Lovely Hugs, Dee