I run as lithe as any elven maid,
through forest stream and wooded glade,
to listen as the soft wind soughs,
and dance beneath the autumn boughs.
My footsteps as they pass,
barely bend a blade of grass,
no trace remaning in this wood,
picture perfect where I stood.
A..J. Ponder
Sorry this is a bit late guys, but it is still Friday.
This was written in 2005. I was amazed at the lack of trace the LOTR crews left on Kaitoke, and wrote this poem in their honour as much as for Kaitoke itself, which is was still gorgeous, even if not quite as untainted as in my remembered youth.
Published Caught on Canvas 2005 (p104) under a gorgeous old world picture of a girl with an umbrella, and opposite a kaitoke forest that must only remain in my youth, so rich and green and dark.
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