THE WINTER FOREST @PoetryByFionaCummings

THE WINTER FORREST

BY FIONA CUMMINGS

 

Standing alone in a forest, far from home

I take in my seasonal surroundings, picking up a pinecone

The smell of wood, oh, it’s so good

Jack Frost bites at my fingertips

I’m sure the colour blue, paints my lips

And a rouge finds its way to my cheeks

How this forest has changed over the weeks

Forgetting Autumn, and it’s falling leaves

There were so many firtrees

To the eye they did please

But now all that’s left are roots

And muddy treads from winter boots

For the firs are out, to decorate houses

Beautiful Red Cedars, and spruces

  the silence of the forest

is so pure

and my soul has found a cure

a peaceful place, almost mystical

for this forest is for sure magical

 

© Fiona Cummings