A forest, dimly lit and green,
Where sense of smell was clearly keen,
Where trees loomed tall and closely set,
Where trailing vines and twilight met.
A place of foggy, morning rain,
A place of undisturbed terrain,
A place of sunlight’s seasoned song,
A place I felt that I belonged.
A place that harbored Nature’s best,
A place where I was uninvited guest;
The place where first I saw those eyes,
So well-preserved in their disguise.
A stag, majestic in his stead
With noble antlers crowning head –
He stood atop the hill, just so,
Surveying what was his below.
I watched him, as he made his way
Along the paths where squirrels played,
Among the rocks and broken trails
And through the wooded, fernlike veils,
Until he came to where I stood,
And held his ground, as best he could.
He sniffed the air for signs of fear
Detecting danger might be near,
But never faltered, flinched or fled,
And closer moved with cautious tread.
Until I could but reach my hand
And almost touch to understand
The warmth that lay beneath his breast
And all the wisdom he possessed.
So, watched we there in Nature’s pause,
And gave each other goodly cause
To what our frailties might reveal,
Of what the other might then feel,
Until he turned to steal away
And leave me all alone that day
With just the sound of summer sighs,
With just the kindness in his eyes.
Copyright © Jan Pearce | Year Posted 2020
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