The Forest Floor

Authors note: In the main I am housebound and have been now for two years. My Occupational therapist organised a weekly trip to a local forest. The feeling of euphoria and the degree of de-stressing was wonderful. So Much so it inspired me to write some poetry. I very rarely write this genre of poetry so I hope it works  :-) David  
   
The Forest Floor  
   
A carpet of mud and decomposing leaves  
Fallen trees, broken branches and twigs  
Lie there like scattered dinosaur bones  
Bright green ferns show of their leaves  
Logs not rolling gather a furry green moss  
Tree roots fan out like witches fingers  
Ready to trip and fell unwary ramblers  
Trees with souls stick out their branches  
Ready to hug any passing tree hugger  
Sunlight streams through the leafy canopy  
Like laser beams warming up the mulch  
Beetles on a mission scurry, always in a hurry  
Ants wearing pants march like the military  
Worms snake and slither, pulsing in pink  
Geese fly overhead ignoring the forest floor  
There is nothing here for them to honk about  
Robin redbreasts twitter and zip frantically  
From tree to tree from bush to forest floor  
A tawny owl sits on the shed roof, like royalty  
He twit-twoos out the wisdom of woodcraft  
Constantly watching the forest floor for movement  
At night the forest creatures come to life  
Bats squeal, foxes scream, stags snort  
The night forest floor is blacker than black  
Animal noises and the breaking of twigs  
Make the forest a dark and creepy place  
So very different from the brightness of daylight  
I am not a wuss I just prefer the forest by day