The Enchanted Forest - Poem by Edith Garcia
The forest looked weird and gloomy,
Beneath the dark sky and eerie moon;
And the trees swayed rhythmically to and fro,
To the flautist's haunting tune.
The flautist sat on the forest's ferny floor,
Like a strange shaped silhouette;
And the notes that he played so melodiously,
Were the sweetest that I've heard yet.
Then a figure emerged from the shadows,
It was a woodland sprite;
And she began to sing and dance to the music,
In her flowing gown of white.
The sprites singing was exquisite,
The sound of the flute divine;
And they blended precisely together,
In perfect harmony and time.
Then the forest was plunged into darkness,
The dismal moon no longer shone;
And there was only the rustling of the trees,
Because the flautist and sprite had gone.
Comments about The Enchanted Forest by Edith Garcia
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You