The whistle of trees
In the breeze

The sun, bathing me in its warms
As I stroll through massive oak trees
Leaves fall like plucked petals
Raining down over my head

If only I could stay forever
in this forest of dreams

Butterflies dancing around
Buzzing Bees collecting nectar
Mockingjays mimicking sounds
Animals hunting about

Vines filled with roses
Reaching the Sky
As it sours high
Never ending

My mind filled with tunes
of music and melody
As the piped piper lures me
deeper in the forest

All the nyx spirits and
pixies rage with jealousy
Of me being crowned as
queen of the forest

In this forest of dreams

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This poem is made by me. EVERYTHING in this story is made by me.