Forest Song

If we'd but time to wander through,
The forests of our minds anew,
What fairytales would there unfold?
What secrets of our souls be told?

In whispered rustles mighty trees
May yet enchant their erstwhile leaves,
To tempt us from our narrow paths,
Lead us to glades where danger laughs

At timid eyes which dare to glance,
See hidden truths amid the dance
Which heaves and sighs and calls us on,
While we play deaf to nature's song.

For in that wood of soul-filled spires,
Which stretch and bend with sheaved desires,
Are many trees of light and hue,
No cloned or man-made avenue

Can capture hearts transformed with seasons,
Respecting not the need for reasons
To either bloom, or fall in turn,
Be evergreen, or yearly burn,

And yet be all, though none complete,
To choose one branch would yet defeat                                
Our spirits flight from soaring high,

Or laying still to watch the sky,

That filled with stars, yet loves the day,
Adores its rest but longs to play
In undergrowth of Autumn fruits,
Whose fallen jewels will send spring's shoots

To live again, though dreams be broken,
Hopes be drowned by strorms which soaken
Every wish we'd see come true.
We'll drink their power, and hence, renew.

Wha's Mental???

Wee bit of poetry in Scots for ma twa wee witches. #poetober continues...

"Ken, yer maw's mental!"
That's wit the bairns a' cry,
Tae ma twa queans,
Wha climb up trees,
An' jump oot tryin tae fly.

"Ken, yer maw's a loony!"
A've heard the bullies say,
While twa wee lassies
Squelch in mud
An' hunt for sticks tae play.

"Ken, yer maw's a nutjob!"
The bored wans fret an' tease,
But laughter fills
Ma sweetheart's ears,
As they imagine a' they please.

"Ken, yer maw's a ____"
But they've caught the wee yin's eye,
An she's stuck them wi
A look sae fierce
It'd make the de'il die.

"Ma maw's no a nutter,"
Her cackling voice explains,
"She's a witch,
Who brews up spells,
Tae transform nasty weans."

"Intae a' sorts o' monsters,"
Her sister comes tae add,
"That eat their taes,
An' breathe oot smells,
That couldnae be mair bad.

Her powers are Tremendous,
Yer right tae look sae scared,
For come the night
O' Hallowe'en,
Ye better be prepared."

An' noo they've got them runnin',
As they shout "She's after you!
But the thing ye'll wish
Ye'd ken't the maist,
Is that we are witches too!"