The Forest

The mountain feels as only a hill

For it has no limbs to blow in the breeze

When a gust comes, it remains still

And cannot dance as a tree does with such ease


The tree loves to waltz on windy spring days

But is dismayed for something is missing

A disappointment lingers and will always

For, unlike the swallow, it cannot sing


The gentle swallow has an unlikely yearning

That someday it will be glinting as the supple lake

And to the skies the light of the stars returning

And with the moonlight, the forest awake


The lake, being tickled by the impish fish

Is always aware of what fun it would be to skitter

And it wishes and wishes an impish wish

That he could swim and splash like that happy critter


Now the fish loves his watery existence

And loves to swim in that lake of glass

But he longs to go a further distance

As the wind, through the sky and the trees and the grass


All things shudder when the wind passes by

And it seems so undaunted until you hear a voice

“I wish i could stop and rest,” the wind will sigh

“As the mountain, solemn and still and choice”


Haley Daley


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s