The sun was bright, the forest dark,
Between the trees the mist did weave,
It spiraled out to bring you near,
You enter not of your own accord,
what would you find, Unicorns,fairies or gnomes,
You feel your being watched, unseen and not alone,
A slight breeze blows the leaves, showing a path,
You follow down the grove to a hollow,
Then end up in a glen, the sound of tiny bells ring in you head,
Over a brook that babbles to no one in particular,
You decide to sit beneath a mighty tree,
Survey the beauty, the peacefulness,
With a stretch you did yawn, eyes grow heavy,
Sleep follows on hushed voices, tiny sighs,
Til night comes, you see a light, movement,
Your not alone, you never were, You smile,
Rustle your leaves, stretch your boughs,
Slowly they all gather round, waiting for the stories,
You left on a trip and now your back,
Into a world you couldn't believe was true,
Now to spread the stories, like the leaves,
Each one a new chapter, a new tale,
For out there the world of Man, Now that was a fantasy........


Richard (Phoenix) Cartledge 4/13/09 (c)