Listen as the forrest is still
Comes alive as some sought of thrill
Which wakes the trees at will
There are slight whispers in the leaves
Moments from hives of the bees
Belief that there is life in the trees
will prove itself at ease
Slowly the trees start their talking
If your not careful they may start moving
While their groaning,moaning and limp walking
follow you from behind,quietly stalking
Roots in the ground they grow
To the edges of the forest,to where rivers flow
they sense everything and well know
everything that creeps and that will go
Thorns on the branches will prick
At anyone careless and not ever so quick
and carefull,you may find a stick
Bashed against your head or the reason to trip
the flowers are inviting and true
swells within it sweet smelling dew
but you cannot see through
the aroma to the poison that kills you
Sunlight,the rain and the earth
the graces of each trees birth
will never be in barren dessert
As the roots dig deep in the earth
In memory of mirkwood 2009
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