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The New Forest

Tall trees offer the birds and beasts much protection;
Of flora and fauna, there is a truly fabulous collection.
Through the forest, ponies roam around wild and free;
Up above their heads, the small birds nest in the trees.

Under the canopy of the trees, the world seems so dim,
But, in grassy clearings, the sunlight is suddenly let in.
Trees, caught from falling, stand at an angle, inclined;
With other trees, their twisted limbs are now entwined.

Rabbits risk emerging from warren holes to run around;
Their long ears stand erect, listening for the tiniest sound.
The forest is punctuated with patches of soft, marshy land,
Where large pools of stagnant water, always seem to stand.

Herds of deer roam around, with their heads held up high;
But on seeing any human, they suddenly feel slightly shy.
Earthen tracks have been formed, by countless falling feet;
Eager to avoid the hidden dangers, of the soft bogs of peat.

Couples companionably dawdle, as they exercise their dogs,
Who, in their eagerness, vault over fallen, moss covered logs.
The boughs of Silver birch trees gently shimmer in the sun;
Twigs snap under foot, sounding like a shot fired from a gun.

The silence is sometimes broken, in places, by passing trains,
But once they've passed by, peace and quiet, once again, reign.
Leaves, twigs, pine cones, and berries, carpet the forest's floor.
For birds and animals, the forest is Mother Nature's food store.

The forest is a sanctuary from the pressures of modern living;
The pace there, compared to everyday life, is more forgiving.
The forest can be a magical place; it seems almost enchanted.
Tiny tots believe fairies live there and want their wishes granted.

Here and there, the ground rises into grassy mounds and banks.
The trees stand tall, like the attentive soldiers in military ranks.
In the shady spots, unfurl a multitude of magnificent spiky ferns.
In autumn, dressed in bright colours, the trees almost seem to burn.

Broken boughs lie abandoned; under lichen laden logs, insects hide.
Streams meander through the forest, and the surrounding countryside.
All of this outstanding natural beauty, is given to us humans for free;
There isn't a more tranquil place upon this earth, where I'd rather be.

poem by Angela Wybrow
Added by Poetry Lover
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