deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Girl in the Forest
The girl’s feet as pure and white as virgin snow,
Move naïvely across rough ground
As through a dark and foreboding forest she does go.
She does not look back from whence she came
But with purpose, forward ventures she.
Past twisted trees and husks of long dead dreams
And thorns so black and sharp and tangled
And cheerless eyes as she passes by seem to follow her
But with a brave young heart and a noble spirit she stays strong
And her delicate feet still go on and remain unharmed to carry her along
Her silken black hair flows behind like her spirit untied
And her bright red lips and her porcelain face bare a countenance of purpose
As in her eyes a vision of her strength lies.
And in her soul the spark of life and love and kindness never dies.
The cheerless eyes open wide as she passes by
And out of the shadows they step in to the light
For no gilt or gold can match the pleasure of her presence
And with this in mind the thorns unwind
Into the husks of dreams are breathed new life.
And flowers and grass spring forth in her wake
The decrepit trees break free from their haggard form
Their green and pleasant leaves unfurled
As she brings life and beauty and energy to their world
Move naïvely across rough ground
As through a dark and foreboding forest she does go.
She does not look back from whence she came
But with purpose, forward ventures she.
Past twisted trees and husks of long dead dreams
And thorns so black and sharp and tangled
And cheerless eyes as she passes by seem to follow her
But with a brave young heart and a noble spirit she stays strong
And her delicate feet still go on and remain unharmed to carry her along
Her silken black hair flows behind like her spirit untied
And her bright red lips and her porcelain face bare a countenance of purpose
As in her eyes a vision of her strength lies.
And in her soul the spark of life and love and kindness never dies.
The cheerless eyes open wide as she passes by
And out of the shadows they step in to the light
For no gilt or gold can match the pleasure of her presence
And with this in mind the thorns unwind
Into the husks of dreams are breathed new life.
And flowers and grass spring forth in her wake
The decrepit trees break free from their haggard form
Their green and pleasant leaves unfurled
As she brings life and beauty and energy to their world
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