Categories
Africa culture/tradition Nature Pastoral Poetry

Another Tale of the WildWoods

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There’s a land behind those hills
Hidden in the forest,
One mighty foliage; of brushes & roots
At all times, Cloud is blue
And King of the Forest
Do fall in love with it
When the Cloud blush
It rains softly; mildly
And little creatures
Which live in the land
Look up to the smiling Forest King
‘Oh, see how handsome his face is’
A little dark Cricket say
‘He is really in love with the Cloud
But we don’t understand
Why she always refuses
To love the Forest King back!’
A group of Pigeons answered
‘I tell you that she is possessed
Who should resist the Forest king?’
The Wolf added, as he looked up
‘The Forest King hadn’t said anything yet
All he does is to stare and smile
How savagely awful!’
Some Pine trees whined
‘If for nothing but admiration
Is the reason to love
I choose not to love’
The philosophical Woodpecker concluded.

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Categories
Nature Pastoral

Tales of the Wildwood: The Beginning

Let me tell you about this poetale which was before "Summer returns" and journey of the Ice King who traveled away from his love, the Great Mountain. 

Winter brought her cold blanket and all living things knew not what to make of her appearance. 




***

Once upon a Time
It was winter
And a night of bitter cold
The snow lay thick upon the ground
And upon the branches of the trees
Two Woodcutters made their way home
And when they came to the Mountain
She was hanging motionless in the air
For the Ice King had kissed her
So cold was it that evening
That the animals and birds
Knew not what to make of it
‘Ugh!’ snarled the Wolf
As he limped through the brushwood
With his tail between his legs
‘This is perfectly monstrous weather!
Why doesn’t the Government look to it?’
‘Weet, weet, weet! Twittered the crickets
‘The old Earth is dead
And she is laid out in her white shroud’
‘The Earth is going to be married
And this is her bridal dress’
The Turtle doves whispered 
Their little pink feet were quite frost bitten
But they felt it was their duty
To say something romantic about the 
situation
‘Nonsense’ the Wolf growled
‘I tell you it is all the fault
Of the Government
And if you don’t believe me
I shall eat you’
The wolf had a thoroughly practical mind
‘Well for my own part’
Said the philosophical Woodpecker
I don’t care an atomic theory for explanations
If a thing is so, it is so
And at present it is terribly cold’
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Uncategorized

A Tale of The Wild Woods 3: Summer Returns


And when the beautiful summer happened to come…

Upon the glades and vales of the wildwoods
The Mountain stood quietly by the forest side
Sniffing the sweet smell come from fresh growing flower shrubs
The happy birds come flying back home
Followed by all pretty insects and the boar herd
The skies are tinted with blue skirmish
Sometimes it seemed it will rain, but it wouldn’t
The tomatoes ripen fast and blush deeply
Whenever the black beetles walk up to her for a little chat
The sun shine brightly, amused at all reunions
The fine community knew many, many happy times
This was one of those beautiful moments, exhilarating
Antelopes walk majestically beneath the tree branches
And squirrels hide behind the branches, watching
“Awww, do you see that?” the pink footed Doves quiz themselves
For in a sudden, a young seed came sprouting from the last snow dot
How joyful it was, the Mountain wore a dark gown
Wondering who dared to admire her triangular shape
For her lover, the cold Ice-King had travelled far, far away to another land
Carrying with himself; all stray winds, both little and mighty
To find another lover, but she believed not that
For she heard it as a rumor from the busybody grey Wolf
The Pines look quite taller, for the snow has left their frost-bitten roots
And when they look down, they feel good about themselves
“Oh, how awfully painful the frost bite was on our foot”
The crickets wonder, leaping from a grass leaf to another
Allowing the wet airs to sift through their fine long body muscles
“The dead Earth is alive!” They yell in utmost joy and unison
“Look at the Mountain, must she dress scantily
Now the Ice-King has no use for her iniquities?”
A confused Wolf said, hiding his face from the suns light
“And what beauty she has brought forth”, a confused Linnet replied
“The flowers blossom in magnificent desires
The tree leaves are greener, and the airs milder
But are all these, the only wealth of the summer?”
The philosophical Woodpecker asked as he shook his head
For to him, the soul of living and happiness
Comes not in the summer nor the winter

***

This is the third in the series of Wildwood poetry written and posted in this blog.