PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I can hear when the forest calls,

but until I can visit redolent pines

by a warm crackling fireside

sitting in embellished imagination,

recollections of former nights,

under skies brushed with silent bling,

stars arcing across the midnight heavens

 breathing aromatic earth fragrances

and pretend I am there already;

my vivid imagination writing

upon tablets of a memory diary,

every precious moment spent

in wild woodland refuge

to save for delicious days

when all I can do is to sit inside my

 imaginary living room teepee

and believe I'm really there.

There's nothing to keep me from

enjoying the forest,but myself.

And I'm far too unwilling

to forego an adventure

than to sketch the trees

lake and waterfall

and hang it from

the altar of my mind

my self satisfying trip to

 woodland nirvana