Woods

The woods are lovely, green and dark

in them lies the reality stark

the fluttering of leaves, swinging of twigs

leaves you in a deja vu, the tree and its bark



Nothing to hide, nothing to show

the curly winding roads will not stop you go

the shimmering river, the sound of cascade

the memory of them will never fade



The hills are high, reaching the sky

the beauty of which makes you sigh

the twinkling of stars, the cooling moon

will thwart you to retrieve soon