Two Old and Unnamed Poems

To whom this wood belongs I know,

For only child-like little feet

Could scamper cross the spidery ferns

And keep their feathered leaves so neat.

If our worldly eyes could catch

A glimpse of those below our knees,

We’d cry out in delighted fits,

‘I must join in your play, oh please!’

Then right beside them, in our mirth,

We’d underneath the daisies dance,

While myriads of crickets sang

To form us in our wild rants.

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Into the Valley of Love I went,

And what did I find there?

Tiny blue-glass stars in orbit,

Circling your raven hair.

The nymphs, who underwater laid

In mossy emerald worlds,

Could only in their envy sigh

To see your dark eyes swirl.

In luminescent innocence

You stood beneath the morning glory.

In your aura, challenging

To fill with flowers my heart’s quarry.

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