The Forest Is Where I Hide.

The place I live is filled with moss,

Rocks lined the slow running stream,

And from afar a meadow of fresh grown grass embraces the ground.

Flowers of red, violet and orange hue decorate the pond it slightly hides,

Oh beauty to see this rare wonder to the eyes.

Yet not one has seen the pebbles that welcome visitors of lost,

Not one word was told that such place exist,

Or what lies beneath the darker bush that stands.

This is the place I live, a beautiful one,

Yet all to marvel seems lost...

For a place like this is never known to the world.

There is hidden land inside that green dense of barky trunks,

There is a place not one knows.

That place is where what hides, that place is where I grew up.