The Winter Forest

  
Standing alone in a forest, far from home
I take in my seasonal surroundings, picking up a pinecone
The smell of wood, oh, it’s so good
Jack Frost bites at my fingertips
I’m sure the colour blue, paints my lips
And a rouge finds its way to my cheeks
How this forest has changed over the weeks
Forgetting Autumn, and it’s falling leaves
There were so many firtrees
To the eye they did please
But now all that’s left are roots
And muddy treads from winter boots
For the firs are out, to decorate houses
Beautiful Red Cedars, and spruces
  the silence of the forest
is so pure
and my soul has found a cure
a peaceful place, almost mystical
for this forest is for sure magical