Woods Poem by Rosie Arwood
Woods
The woods the trees the underbrush
The song I sing without a rush
I love I live I welcome it
The woods and I, a perfect fit
The humming birds, the song they sing,
The vines around, they slowly swing,
My home it is, the lush green ground,
Where bunnies hop without a sound
Where chipmunks scurry, they go around
The bears they spring and leap and bound
Thursday, June 14, 2012
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Being in the mountains with my grandparents, woods surrounding us on every side except for the driveway, really makes you appreceative of any wildlife and such.
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 3:58:22 PM # 1.0.0.1119
