leaves lie underfoot as I stroll through the mass of trees.
wind caresses my skin, cools the air with each soft and gentle blow.
its song, the whistling song thrush sweeps past me like a breeze.
treasures will behold my eyes I really do not know.
around the giant carpet will I see a Jenny Wren,
will it be a little fawn not yet to its feet?
a fox and its playful young looking for their den
even a fluffy rabbit, looking oh so sweet.
not a single creature do I spy, in this hinterland.
is a place of beauty, a place of mystery and awe.
place untouched, fresh, unspoilt, by machine or human hand,
large and smallest beings can roam, free, wild, and sure.
I do not chance upon its wealth,
precious place quiet and lonely lies.
own treasures this place keeps for its self,
not reveal to my eyes.
I do not worry why ‘tis oh, so quiet, for, perhaps
time I’ll chance upon a sight not seen before.
‘twill be I who spies a darling little nuthatch,
even the lovely peacock with its tail feathers that I adore.
cares, for now, I’ll be contented with the tranquillity of this location.
I am not the only person to find this wondrous place.
I will leave it, only for now and go find my true vocation.
Now I have
been inspired by such beauty and such grace.