Let's walk beneath the oak trees,
lie on the mossy ground.
The woods are where I love to be.
God's secret place that we have found.
It's nice to hear the scurrying
of the creatures' busy day.
If you listen to the woods you'll find
they have oh so much to say.
The crunching of the dead leaves...
The trickling of the stream...
The calling of each animal...
This is the place of all my dreams.
I'd love to build a cabin
in this woodland paradise.
We could enjoy the simple things.
Oh, that would be so nice!
Surely Creatues' Mary not Creature's otherwise - great writing
love the poem, i can hear myself as a kid walking through the leaves at winter.
Mary I do have the simple things now that my life has reached August. Every thing about your poem is what I have.Everywhere I go I can reach out and touch the things that are in your poem. I walk to the end of my street and there are the fields with scarecrows dotted everywhere, wonderful place to live.Your poem made me feel well at home, with life and what surrounds me, such beautiful words. cheers Sylvie.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
But you just have built a beautiful cabin.This is wonderful poem and so peaceful.Love Duncan