Into a Woodland
As woodland drifts, the clouds hang deep
While birdsong trails with rows of sheep;
Outlined by duskfall I can see
How beautiful the night’s marquee…
That in a hush all shadows creep.
When budding flowers fall asleep;
There, moonlight red comes out to peep
On cabins, lakes, and every tree
As woodland drifts.
Then fragrant air begins to sweep
Across horizons…oh to leap;
In criss-crossed threads of potpourri
Revealing autumn’s lustrous spree…
Till dew of morn bequeaths its heap!
As woodland drifts.
10/30/2017
Contest of Janice Canerdy: Write Me A Rondeau
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