'Nature's Trove'

Nature's Trove

Soft is sight when mists lie and hug the trees
Giving skirt and shawl to the forest's kin.
Light is the dawn and gentle is the breeze
When morning light does whisk the wisps and fen.

Boulder Cracking thunder may blast a mount
To ash. Hot ocean lashing bolts of Jove
May steam and splash to bedrock the great fount
Of the sea. Nature has both in its trove.

The gentleness of a spider's spire.
The Ragnarock of a Volcano's blast.
The song of bird and the scream of fire.
All this have I known and loved, first to last.

For High and hot and sleepy as a babe;
All have I felt when in your arms I've laid.

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In Prose, the Poem would look and read like this:
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Soft is sight when mists lie and hug the trees giving
skirt and shawl to the forest's kin.
Light is the dawn and gentle is the breeze when
morning light does whisk the wisps and fen.

Boulder Cracking thunder may blast a mount to ash.
Hot ocean lashing bolts of Jove may steam and splash
to bedrock the great fount of the sea.

Nature has both in its trove. The gentleness of a
spider's spire,
The Ragnarock of a Volcano's blast. The song of
bird and the scream of fire.
All this have I known and loved, first to last.

For High and hot and sleepy as a babe; All have I
felt when in your arms I've laid.


(c) 1999, 2011 G.Robin Smith all rights reserved