Wordsmiths In the Woods

~Once upon a rhyme, many years ago~ a charm of wordsmiths gathered on an emerald mountain took dreamy strolls on piney paths along its golden crown dipped their wits and winsome in a pastel painted lake while sun and shadow played a game of time charades. The moon unchained a spray of applauding stars from the muses hearts the gemstones gently flowed like a rush of songs from a bevy of meadowlark Shakespeare's ghost stirring just beyond the glow. All the while the old poetess listened quietly her novella etched in the eyes and beech bark hands seeing things the green sprigs would never see her cane tapping stardust into an empty hourglass... The coals slipping silently into quiet blush as sonnets wove seamlessly upon a quilted brush. A ruby throated angel fanning poetic vows sealing us to our muse in a jaded stand of boughs.. We bid farewell and made promises we'd never keep. carving weighted hearts into the shag bark of memory.