Hidden
Melanie A. Huggett
Today I stood and watched in awe,
As high above, an eagle soared
On the thermals, gliding proud
'Till captured by the summer clouds.
And far below, in leafy green
A herd of skittish deer be seen,
Hiding in the the forest maze,
Forever watching, frightful gaze.
The secrets whispered on the breeze
Are carried forth among the trees
As, echoed by the tuneful brook
They tell the story, need no book.
And, on the forest floor, the rustles
Sound like old-time ladies bustles,
As the shrews and mice hold sway
And busily conduct their day.
The feathered choir of arias
From robins, doves and harriers
From thrushes, nightingales and more
Resonate with Natures lore.
And hid beneath the forest cloak
Among the trees live faerie folk
Who, as the guardians of the green,
Stay hidden, rarely being seen.
They lives their lives in secret fashion,
Working with a fervent passion
To keep as sacred Mothers grove,
And there, the life so interwove.
This forest setting, velvet green
With Mothers hand is made serene,
With beauty and with tender care
She made this plce so very rare.
And, all around this hallowed setting,
I'm still in awe and not forgetting,
Who's behind this scene of reverence,
Who has Nature as Her preference.
Creator of this secret world
From gnarled old tree to leaf unfurled,
From deep, clear spring to highest fir,
For this we must gives thanks to Her.
And if by chance you find this place,
far from the maddening human race,
Lightly step and tread with care,
And secret keep, what you find there!
