Sylvan Solace Poem by Vaibhav Simha

Enchanting are the memories of that place,
Whereto I went whenever I donned a sad face,
For in the melody of the swishing breeze,
My soul lay nestled in the comfort of the trees.

The moonlit welkin brought forth its starry zeal
And festooned the night with more heavenly appeal-
I, supine, wondered then if there could e'er be
More rapturous solace wanting to caress me.

Languid clouds wafted in that irenic sea,
Prodding me to awaken and find, in naught, glee;
My deep-rooted sorrows they dug out gratis
And roused my bliss from its dark sepulchral stasis.

Oh, how I wish my soul, in death, mosey here:
Its throbbing heart is resonant with mine and clear,
Without a woe to offer but takes mine all,
The softest bed of life to save me from my fall.

It's been seven long halcyon years since then;
I yen to return, although I do not know when;
My noetic retreat from life is your glen
Whose ineffable pulchritude, limns my good pen.