Hug the Bard Song
I wasn't truly attuned to the Bard
Who tried to show cosmic significance.
On the dark moonlit forest's stage, he starred.
His Bardic thoughts defying arrogance.
I met the night Bard while he was singing
In chorus with Oaks of the magic grove.
Sprouting with seedlings was his beginning.
Raised in the forest, his true treasure trove.
This bounty lies protected by wet clouds.
It seems nature knows how to calculate
The number of elements it enshrouds,
Even as they waltz on the lovely lake.
The wind plays the wooden flute merrily,
Pleasing the Stars with chants of forestry.
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