Woods By: Rachel Field
Whenever the woods I walk among
Are very green and young,
With leaves a-twinkle on every tree,
The heart begins to dance in me,
And my feet to caper from tree to tree
Over the sunny patch of greenery.
But when the woods I walk among
Are very old, with mosses hung
In thin festoons of tattered gray,
And the greens seems high and far away,
Oh, then I tiptoe from tree to tree,
For a hush is on the heart of me.
I know you are busy but I look forward to your next poem post. I even more want to see your own work!
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