Trip Johnson Poet Light Verse

Music of the Woods

"Music of the Woods"

Morning sun shine,
through branches of trees.

Fog on the pond whirling, 
with red maple leaves.

Whirling and dancing,
to music of the woods.

Slight smell of bacon,
in brisk morning breeze.

Small rippled waves tapping on shore,
tapping tapping then tapping some more. 

The call of a Loon majestic and pure,
this is a spot that I hold very dear.

Natures symphony soothing the ear,
draws me back to this place every year.

  By
      Trip Johnson

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Lesley Brown February 6, 2011 at 8:24 AM I enjoyed reading your poem. Great images! I felt like I was standing on the shore experiencing this scene. Good job!