When the rigours of life's cluttered stage
Have sapped my mental energy.
A forest glade so far away
Where oak tree sentinels stand guard eternally;
Against the prying eyes and wagging
Tongues of evil doers.
And all its fearless creatures dance and play
Cavorting from dawn to dusk;
Before the fading sunlight is ushered
Through nature's exit door.
Keeping perfect time as usual, the Moon arrives
And paints the glade in silver shadows.
The silhouettes of tree guardians beckon
Me to join their dance.
And they sway in perfect rhythm to the liquid
Music of the warm night breeze;
As the scents of crocuses and lilacs
Infuse my spirit, energising my soul.
