Poetry / archive
Hidden Paths
Walking o'er a grassy plain,
On a fresh sunny spring's day,
Trod I an unseen path,
Heading into the Undying West.
Bright blazed the noon sun,while
Birds sang in the scattered brush,
Green flamed the grass at my feet,
Littered with flowers gold and red.
Cool blew on the scented breeze,
Warm was the rich fragrant earth,
Butterflies fluttered all around,
As I headed on my way into the West.
Loud was the cry of the hunting hawk,
Soaring beyond my mortal sight,
Clear was the titter of the squirrels,
Scampering through the leafy boughs.
Finches twittered in the trees,
As a silver creek tinkled by,
Clouds scudded across the sky,
As I trod the hidden path.
Dark it was when I came,
Came to the forest wide,
The stream flowed into its depths,
Where darkness held sway......
Roofed with hoary twisted boughs,
Pillared with mighty carven trunks,
The forest woke with the night,
As I headed into the West.
With cloak drawn against the chill,
Walked I into the forests trees,
To rest in the dark before the dawn,
When I tread my way into the West....