Deep In the Woods

It's a fearful place it scared me in my childhood and it still does, So very far in the deepest of woods it lay, black, a deep dark pool, By bushes, overhanging trees, stretched across dirty stagnant water, An unpleasant quietness gave the scene a dingy dirty smell of waste. The trunks of trees, undisturbed for years bowed, sagged over its brim, Some had plunged headlong into its gloomy flood buried by its deepness, A frightening place in the dim shade and the solemn hush of the woods, The silence made it more fearful but there was lonely solitary beauty. A timid little primrose did not fear the sombre place on its muddy bank, Other plants sprung thickly there was thousands of starry flowers around, Mixed with wood anemonies a breeze spreading their luscious sweet breath, The woods revel in their flowered families so quiet yet so very beautiful. In spring, knotted trunks displayed crisp leaves to join odorous flowers, It is in laughing contrast with dark winters of grey moss and gloominess, Nature calls for the birds pair by pair to weave within the leafy boughs, To summer homes under hollow banks where the blackbirds build their nests. In the maze of twisted stumps and roots a chaffinch makes it's silvery home, On a bough a storm-cock sang to his love sitting in a beautiful willow tree, There was a pleasant sight a pleasant smell from a close tasseled honeysuckle, And to see within the shadowy solitude a sudden gush of warm bright sunshine. Through some high opening everything became bright, clear and very beautiful, Through brooding nooks and hoary branches the sun shone onto the black water, And within the pools lowest depths a little world of its own began to come alive, The beams of sunlight fell onto the bank and the flowers gave the pool new life.