š
No one will ever know who he was
As he carried tools in an uncrowded place
It was on his mind, his child dream
Perhaps from an unseen friends
Talking at them sometimes as if they were there, and built it, believed, they would appreciate, moss creep at the bark
Ant came out from the inlet, and the rain fell from the tree top, for what reason he left
And abandoned the forest
š
Ghost of small people, weary from a journey of the unknown
Went inside the barstool, then
Ordered ale
They chatted in the dark, with some occasional mirth
Slivered shaft of moonlight , drifting
The floor board while the entire tree groan
Then they paused, staring far not near
Beyond the mythical
Lasted for quite sometime
As they heard some young voices
Peeking at the window
Putting bread and butter
At the tiny table
Nah, not again this kind, an old
Fellow with a yellow scarp wrapped
Upon his stone kneck protesting
š
Parents holding some VCR
a gift for their kids to treasured as they grow up and uploaded in social media
Big television company swarmed the area
Firefly Forest featured in primed time segment for the first time
Asking, who’s the genius behind
He saw everything what’s going on at his masterpiece and smiled
Faced the other side
Of his bed imagining a small boat floating somewhere,
Somewhere far not near.
Four women discover that believing in magic is the medicine they need to overcome their personal struggles and tragedies after they find fairy homes in the forest.
tea cups and pencils poem 