Wandering Forest Elf
I'll take his walks
But not his ways.
Rugged for each, rung through
Old woodsman's days.
I'll track what cries
For peace, hawk-climbed
In that soothing, stream-breathed
Mountainy thymed.
While bypassing
Unnerved by, mourned
Legends echo, in both felled
Branched grandeur; horned.
Copyright © James Watkin | Year Posted 2021
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