In the forest of White River
In the land of Neverwas
Where leaves give voice
To the breeze, a thousand
Whispering tongues.
Whispering tongues
Give voice to the trees
Leaves that murmur, sigh,
sounds loosed by the breeze in the forest
of White River in the land of Neverwas.
In the land on Neverwas
In the forest of the White River
Leaves gossip, a thousand
Wagging tongues, loosed by the breeze,
a breeze heady with the scent of fir.
A breeze heady, winter clean, with tang
and the promise of frost on crimsoned leaves,
frost on yellowing grass sparkling, creating
gems of color, brilliant miniscule rainbows
in the forest of White River in the land of Neverwas.