In the heart of sylphic woods,
In glades no man has ventured,
Does a lady of the green reside,
Behind an oaken mask she hides,
Confining an ethereal and virgin face,
Her hair is a canopy all its own,
Viridian and amber and verdant,
Cloaked in the very same foliage she loves,
A moss ball gown,
And this forest is her masked gala,
Here she speaks to deer and tree both,
Listening to their aches and pains,
And tending to their woodland souls,

She’s a warden in this jade locale,
A motherly figure,
And one this natural world adores in return.

Comments
  1. Mother Gaia, tending to the wood. Beautifully penned.

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