Aug 01

short poem

Enchanting woods,
Are calling me,
Begging me to come home.
Where their green darkness engulfs me.
Where my worries float away,
On all the birds wings.
And their songs bring peace,
In this troubled time.
About the Author: Amelia_v
“If there’s a book you really want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” —Toni Morrison