The Magic of Light

I look up sometimes, when surrounded by green, To things above, which have yet to be seen. In the dark green forest, with twinkling light, With golden rays, that fade into night. Long canes of a glorious and wonderful sun, That nothing surrounding, could ever outrun. They touch the ground, with a delicate touch, The vibrancy of colour, I adore so much. The darkness and shadow, are defeated once more, As the sun shines down, it’s rays so pure. Like a golden honey, it trickles through leaves, And encases all, as the light falls and weaves. A forest so dense, has a magical feel, A setting so calm, and wondrously ideal. A magical place, with beings and more, Where sun, and rain both equally pour. You never know, what exactly you’ll find, From fairies and life, please do be kind. This magical place, untouched by all, Is a home for these beings, from winter to fall. The sound of the branches, moving with wind, And the crunch of a leaf, from a tree that’s thinned. Autumn is coming, the leaves are all red, A pile of leaves, as big as a bed. The floor is a canvas, that changes around, With burrows and branches, where trees are bound. A place that changes, as the sun goes to sleep, To a wondrous night, with blues so deep. The hoot of owls, the guardians of sky, They scour the floor, with yellow marble eye. The forest is alive, as much as the day, With mice and bugs, the owls nightly prey. To look and examine, as the sun falls down, A scarlet red and orange, that shines through the crown. Of a thousand trees, with crowns so glorious, Their presence in the forest, is very notorious. If you find yourself, ever wondering around, A forest so magical, listen to the sound. Of every breath, and rustle and crack, And be glad you’re there, and don’t look back.