03-13-2016, 11:46 PM
Still working on the earlier poem but that is going to take a while. Here is another one.
Another year has run its course, and now
The land reposes in the silent arms
Of winter's mantle. Through the long, dark nights
And hurried days the ancient forests sleep.
These gnarled and knotted forms of oak and elm
Have shed their summer raiment, and prepare
Themselves for winter's frosty march, though still
Their dormant forms stand ever-watchful guard.
While safe beneath their frosty carapace
The denizens of England's forests sleep.
At once protected from their deadliest foes
And winter's scorn, they rest their weary limbs,
Until once more Spring’s gentle zephyr breathes
New life into the forest’s sleeping floor.
Another year has run its course, and now
The land reposes in the silent arms
Of winter's mantle. Through the long, dark nights
And hurried days the ancient forests sleep.
These gnarled and knotted forms of oak and elm
Have shed their summer raiment, and prepare
Themselves for winter's frosty march, though still
Their dormant forms stand ever-watchful guard.
While safe beneath their frosty carapace
The denizens of England's forests sleep.
At once protected from their deadliest foes
And winter's scorn, they rest their weary limbs,
Until once more Spring’s gentle zephyr breathes
New life into the forest’s sleeping floor.