The woods were as densely knit as the pullover
That mother’s knit for their progeny
Cables of thickets and glens interwoven in the tenacious undergrowth
Vines gripped the arms of trees like possessive jealous wives
Leaves rustled and swung to the music of the fragrant breeze
The jungle shook itself awake in the first flush of dawn
Stretching its moss green legs in languorous movements
The olive branch held up its hand in surrender to the rosy hues
Maples jostled minuscule oak acorns out of the way
Not realizing that their might will one day dwarf the others
The forest exhaled cool mists of the fresh spring dawn
Cherry blossoms tumbled and cart wheeled to medieval tunes
Waltzing in the scented gusts of excited winds
The picture postcard perfect white pear flowers
Sang songs for ivory clad brides, demure and shy
The bald eagle decided to wing across the azure
Trying to placate the angry ring-necked pheasant
The barred owl hooted in solitary splendor
Gaping owlishly at the sunbeams dance
As the woods woke up to a peaceful new world
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