In a Forest Glen


I am here, but you don’t know

Like the green moss I grow

Settled in and doing fine

Knowing all around is mine

Little growth here and there

Just a little bit of daily wear

But my sprouts of pistols sewn

Too tiny to see have grown

Hiding in a forest wide

Little showing to the rest

My tiny flowers brightly best

Gone tomorrow as it goes

Fragrance tiny without nose

Too small to ever be seen

Too small for a lasting sheen

Going now to seal away

Perhaps not to return a day


Barbara Blackcinder


About Barbara Blackcinder

I am a poet/writer with a need for words. There are so many out there that I haven't used yet. They define all reality and mine when you read those from me.
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