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Kerry Carlson Poem
In the woodland, a wildling roams unbound
She speaks the language of leaves, and the wind’s soft sounds.
Her hair, a cascade of chestnut and gold
Always tangled with pines, keeping her warm when it’s cold
At each sunrise, she emerges from her leafy bed
She greets the day glowing like the sun, it’s said
Her magical power rooted in the soil below
Out of her nature’s wonders flow
She dances each season, a gentle ballet,
Keeping the harshest of weather and foes away
Under the moon’s silver gaze, she weaves her spells,
The owls listen, to help spread the word of the secrets she tells,
Wildlings know no chains,
When it’s her time, she will vanish into the mist, but her essence will remain
And her magical song will forever be woven into the forest,
And when you’re walking through you may hear it, blended in to nature’s chorus”
Copyright © kerry Carlson | Year Posted 2024
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