The Woods Of Imagination Poem by K. Gray Willoughby

I’m from a place where everyday
Adventure shall arrive,
The woods around me are my playground
As long as I’m alive

A bamboo stick, a few small rocks,
They are my arms of choice;
I raise my sword and with a scream,
The enemy shall hear my voice!

I charge the woods and through the trees
To see whom I can find,
In camouflage the enemy
Has flanked me from behind.

We swing our sticks, or swords, with force
In hopes to slay our foe;
I hear a crack, and see mine break
As fear begins to show.

I turn to run, for I am quick,
To escape my chaser’s sight;
I climb a tree in hopes to gain
My willingness to fight.

I hear his steps, he’s walking slow,
He’s searching for a sign;
Any clue, an arm or shoe,
Or careless move of mine.

I close my eyes, control my breath,
And ready for the fight,
There’s only one of us who will
Be leaving here tonight!

I grab a branch, and swing down fast
The element of surprise,
He drops his sword, falls to his knees,
And softly starts to cry.


He sees his fate, approaching fast,
And thinks back on his life,
Like what he’s done and what will happen
To his kids and wife!

I start to laugh and mock this pig
Of whom I soon shall slay,
He begs, he screams, he pleads to me
To see another day.

I cannot break, will mercy show?
What fate do I have for my foe?
I turn to walk away from him
But little ‘bout my foe I know.

For in his shoe, I didn’t know
He had concealed a knife.
A knife, so sharp, that calls my name
And soon will take my life.

I turn to bid farewell to him,
And strut off with a grin,
But when I turned, he lunged at me,
And metal went straight in.

My stomach bled, my eyes showed blurs,
But pain it was not there,
I fell upon the ground and with
Great force I gasped for air.

It was my turn, to think of life,
Like all men dying should.
Recall events, the just and evil
And close my eyes for good.

His voice it is the last I hear,
His face it darkens now.
The world I’m in begins to fade,
His win I must allow.

The dark is all I see, for now
Until I expose my eyes,
To the sun and to the face of whom
Has helped me start to rise.


What’s happening? I should be dead?
The laws of life you cannot bend?
But when I looked I saw the face
Of not my foe but of my friend.

He laughs and compliments the show,
I put on during war today,
I touch the scratch he put on me
And “Ow” is all that I can say.

We walk together, out the woods,
And to his house to stay,
We leave the battlefield on which
My blood was shed today.

And as we walk, we both think back,
To our adventures of the past,
And think today the memory
Is surely going to last.

We go to sleep and think about
Tomorrow where we’ll venture,
So we can be prepared for our
Next great and new adventure.