Gert W. Knop Poet Rhyme

At Forest's Fringe

At forest's fringe 

When I picked crocuses
in 2001,
my thoughts were strange,
some memories gone.
I looked to the sky
without being shy
and looked for apples and hay.
I crossed the forest,
the air was still warm,
but sudden cold winds
brought me shiver and 
turned into storm.
A deer looked at me 
from its shelter behind.
I did not disturb it
and returned back home.
found even some mushrooms 
of different kind.

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James Marshall Goff July 29, 2009 at 4:15 AM Hi Gert! I'm new to your work! will enjoy more! ...I visit the forest for inspiration and head-clearing too, like many on the soup! I liked the gentle hand in which you held the deer's respect and scouted 'shrooms!!! jimbo