A frosty forest stood silent
Still, untouched, uninjured
Enriched lessened learnt
Deepened uninhabitability
Unaware of sorrow: life.
Petite petals flourished, trunks thrived
Honeyed breath sweetened the leaves,
Infecting roots buried deep in snow
These roots doth grow: yearning
Unearthed sediment of sentiment
Seeping into a wood-nymphs lungs,
Her heart fled, but her eyes did sojourn
For she gasped:
“I have seen a broken dawn!”
The present was fearful,
And the past tainted and tearful
But her future hurt: burnt
By the ignition of inamorato learnt.
The branches crazily creaked
The wind did soar,
The rain damped the doors of oak
Soaked the hearts of the unspoke-n;
Never. Did she dig so deep,
For this wood-nymph did speak:
“O’pray ye pear tree such pitiful plea,
I am hurt and so is my tenacity,
Oh help me Mother and Sir
Of growth, mystic and myrrh
My affection doth aches,
Help! For my forest she breaks”
Her poor arms, her poor hands
Broken charms, broken lands,
Break!
A ray of light beams againstith the clouds,
An angel? In delight she shrouds
Warm light bathes her battered body,
Hums a mellow melody
“It is I, my sweet wood-nymph,
Hug my tender bones
I will not hear of your hateful moans,
I am you
Your conscience, your taste
Awful affliction make haste!”
The sun powerfully pierced through,
Mist cleared as if true,
For that was no angel or bruise
For that was him –
That was her muse.
The frosty forest stood silent,
Still, touched and injured
Enriched lessened learnt,
Deepened inhabitability
Aware of sorrow: life.
Ales and Scribbles 