The fountain in the woods

As the silence drags on,

And the leaves tumble down,

All is peaceful, all is still,

The birds do not disturb the quiet,

Of the clearing in the woods,

As if knowing that it is a place for silence,

Not a whisper of a sound to be heard,

Lost in time, forgotten, abandoned,

There is little sign of earlier life,

Except a white stone fountain,

Overgrown with ivy and brambles,

For the fountain, it's the wait,

The wait to be rediscovered,

Uncovered, to have the sun shine on it,

Revealing the snowy white stone to the world,

To let the water bubble and gush,

But for now it must wait to be found again,

As the silence drags on,

And the leaves tumble down,

All is peaceful, all is still.