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.
Through wild woods,
Parting shimmering drapes,
Greeted by a fanning of tiny hands
Seated next to dryads wrapped in cosy ruby capes.
Swirling dervlas swish folksy skirts,
Weaving dreamily through silver birches.
Crystals wink as the fairy choir sings in the wings,
Waiting for woodland girl to emerge, her gown tinged with whispers
of pearly tears.
Trailing across silvery skies, a carriage pulled by white doves glides…
The audience sighs!
Queen of the forest has arrived!
Lavender Moon: Artist, Poet and Lover of Nature 
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