Fine Forest Days

The Forest has no real name, but it exists in the heart of every child who's ever played.

            Quick birdsongs

            Short and sweet

            Trickle from the trees

           

            I follow their trail

            Whistling jauntily

 

Red rubber boots stomp across the ground

            Amidst a swirl of brown and green

 

            Butterfly net strung across my back

            My sword against this forest path

 

Mist clings to the air

The remains of fallen rain

A gray shroud of mystery

           

I wander warily

Watching the trees

Full of carved eyes

 

Swirling pools of silver

            Ripple around my feet

            As I travel through the creek

           

            Frogs, displaced

            Jump up in place

            I run to avoid their rage

 

            Sticky sweat runs along my neck

            The sun has hit high noon

           

            I take a break under the fanning leaves

            Of a large oak tree

            And listen to the forest’s heartbeat

 

            I climb across the giant roots

            Of a baobab tree

            Like the fat fingers

            Of a rich old king

            When the sky turns red

            I turn my step

            And head for the direction of home

 

            When my mother asks

            I am glad to say

            Another fine day has passed this way.

           

 

Author's Note

Inspired by Winnie the Pooh, Calvin and Hobbes and the forest I imagined in my childhood

Reviews

[Wolfwind]

The forest and the imagination has always gone hand in hand. I remember the days of youth, exploring through the woods and letting my dreams manifest as characters that I might meet along the way. I think you did a great job in capturing the essense of youth and fun and that never ending flow of imagination we all can have.

Thanks for sharing this wonderful weave of words. It was an enjoyable read.
Aaron - Wolfwind

[annie lee]

I find this very playful; I could really visualize Calvin and Hobbes sauntering through the forest, Hobbes going into his hunter position on occasion, and Calvin slashing his wooden sword against invisible enemies. Very well done.

[Gossamer Violet]

this poem won second in my forest poetry contest because of its fun imagery of childhood and imaginative comparisons, congrats to kahlen369