Wednesday, 13 March 2013

In The Hands of The Woodman

Amid lavish halls of the greenwood
abundant nature is unchained
where the bound and released are equal 
in finest groves of all things gained

Leaves whisper in the morning mist
primordial messages of time
the soothing dance of forest boughs
beat a pulse of ancient rhyme

The folk of the timeless woodland
trade elixir's with spirits of air
exhilarating perfumes of loam
a lyrical poised melodious share

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