Forest Tales

Come, occupy my silent place
and make thy dwelling there.
More grace is wrought in quietness
than any is aware.

- John Oxenham

Forest Tales

Morning light filtered through green leaves
To the mossy ground, chilled and calm.
White blooms of rhododendron burst
and speckle the forest, single flowers
drop down to the soft, gurgling creek
and take a swim down the hill.
A tucked away retreat, deep in the 
forest perched on the mountain. 
A safe place to restore your soul.
Just listen to the stream, or chirping birds
so cheerful. The green glow of mossy rocks
makes me imagine it is the pathway
for the elves who pass this way,
to their dwelling even deeper in the forest.
I rest here on the outside of their realm, but
the pathway into their woodland is
just there, where that mossy rock 
carpeted in green and lichen meets 
the small stream over the
smooth black rocks.