If you happen to wander amongst the tall rosewoods
On a red autumn evening, you might chance upon
The shadow of lithe figures with nimble fingers,
Weaving thoughts into images; images into runes,
While stars scintillate in the memory of dusk’s light.
Should fear step aside and curiosity lingers,
You may sight, from out beneath misty forests’ canopy,
Carrying with them the sweet, wafture of freshly fallen freesias,
Those lithe shadows melding into forms, as real as life,
To warmly welcome you into their cherished fold.
Words of inspiration: Lithe. Rosewood. Shadow. Wafture. Meld. Scintillate.
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