Garden Folk

Upon lost trails do we weave,

paths unseen beneath the leaves

Do you hear us lightly scamper?

Betwixt the shadows of your lanterns,

Our movements swift, our passions free,

Our kingdoms built among the weeds,

Identity you plead of us,

We of twilight, mote, and dust,

Our lives are not for you to know,

We of spider’s silk and crow,

Now begone lest you offend,

What lies beyond your skills to mend,

We shall linger, ever watchful,

Ever quiet, ever thoughtful

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 )

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