Foraging through the firry forest
I came upon roses in the wild,
not the elusive morel I sought,
but roses, pink, mauve, cerise, and scarlet.
They raised their velvety, flushed heads
as if to encourage my caress.
Fragrance, so tantalizing, wafted
as I tenderly stroked their grandeur.
I sat awhile and marveled in them
before continuing on my studied way.
A delightful respite from my mark
that will remain within my memories –
extraordinary elegance
of the uncommon roses in the wild.
I'm in a crowded place.
Others brush my limbs.
We look so much the same,
I easily fit in.
No one knows my name.
I am one of them,
firry and firm with
a little junk in the trunk.
Wispy and thin,
I flow with the breeze.
I'm a little shady,
but stay if you please
as long as you'd like.
I've no teeth to bite.
If you come closer,
I won't walk away.
I've no legs to go.
I'm here every day.
The great outdoors
is where I sleep.
They're all I've known.
My roots are deep.
This crowded forest
is my home.
By: Juliet Ligon
Motif: Nature