The Wooded Clearing

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Utopia.

Submitted: March 13, 2015

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Submitted: March 13, 2015

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A hidden place,

Known only by me,

Shrouded in mystery,

Marked by a foggy sea.

 

Deep into the woods,

Where no one ever goes,

My sanctuary awaits,

Bound by frosty toes.

 

Under a canopy of treetops,

A little clearing of green,

With leaves that seem to sway in the wind,

Who glow with a special sheen.

 

I go here to think,

To laugh at my life,

To sing songs without meaning,

To end the day’s strife.

 

I go here to breathe,

To seek the real truth,

To find what I lost,

To recover my youth.

 

My place of liberty,

Where I go to be free,

A secret it is,

Made just for me.

 

We each have that special place,

Paradise galore,

Mine is the clearing,

So what is yours?

 


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