The Dryad

    


Evening drawing close
half light playing tricks
a ring of oaks,magic oaks
strong limbs to the earth
holding up a stormy sky,
beams of sunshine
where the copse is thin
lighting up the bark
playing tricks with me,
Who was she?
dressed all in gossamer,
pictures in a poetry book.
From different worlds;
we could not talk,
'though of the earth.
Mine of dreams and myths.
She? More real than I.