Forest Garden
The deep green of the forest’s trees,
And the soft buzzing of the tiny bees—
Life courses through Mother Earth’s veins,
Each flower blooming like loving swains—
The darkness of night speaks in undertones,
A light pulsing from the bleak moonstones—
The daylight shining bright with sun,
Shrubbery growing in the garden—
Soft wind blows in her face,
Her dress fluttering, crazy lace—
Leaves fly by in utter beauty,
Birds lying in their aerie—
Sleepy animals find their home,
The earthworms settling in the loam—
Spiders crawl eerily up their webs,
Exhaustion and tired ebbs—
The moon shines brightly over Earth,
Awaiting the next day’s birth—
Flowers, bees, moonstone and lace,
Shine but do not abase—
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