The Storybook Forest...
a peculiar little bridge made
of seven water stepping stones
led me to a storybook forest
that would remind anyone of home
where the moss made a green carpet
that was impossible to not follow
and there was a different shade of sunlight
that was looking through this hollow
I felt as if I was caught in an old photograph
that was finally found on a forgotten shelf
and I was standing next to a dead knotted tree
that looked as if it was still growing away from itself
I then awoke from my dream and go on
never knowing if this place was real or fake
or if I only get to revisit it in the mystifying visions
that taunt me before I wake
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
