Musing…



Tracing grooves in ancient oak bark

With tingling fingers, soothed; 

Sheltered in the wings of strong silent boughs.

Wooed by whispering tales from distant shores.

Amber acorns break onto fresh  fallen crushed leaves

Seeding under misted mosses and musty funghi

Where stories weave. 

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10 thoughts on “Musing…

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