Poetry

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Once in a forest,
Near the land of the Scots,
There lived a lassie
Her hair tied with knots.

She wore a dress of cotton
Soft like her rabbit friends,
Knotted hair woven of flowers
Out of the forests’ glen.

There was a day
When this child
Wandered from
The forest mild.

At its edge
Stood a girl
Whose brown hair unfurled
In gracious curls.

The brown haired girl smiled
With a laugh on her lips
Nose bunched like a honey bee would forage
Quick with a nip.

‘How strange,’ thought the lassie,
Her own hair like Autumn leaves.
‘Perhaps the world is more
Than the little I perceive.’

Together, they ventured
Climbing up the moor
The lassies eyes grew wide at a sight
She’d never seen before.

The grandeur of ruddy hills
Rising from the dingle,
Playfully snatched the lassies breath,
Returned to her a giggle!

Joy bubbled within
Like her stream in the woods.
She turned to her dark friend,
Reveling in childhood.

Without another word,
Their laughter ringing out,
The two girls stretched wide their arms,
Twirling all about.

Then running, running, running!
They raced upland.
Passed the wildflowers, through the fields,
Of this fertile moorland.

“Better than mountains!”
“For mountains are to rough!”
“Better than the forest!”
“Terrain is often tough!”

“Rest a while on
The sleeping giants’ back
You’ll find it is softer
Than any pillow, any sack!”

Lassie faced
Her friend, so new
To the girl, she said,
“I think I like you.”

Then auburn and brown,
The colors of fall,
Danced on rolling hills,
Until nights call.

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