Lurking Woods

Had my words ebbed into wishful musings,
A manic humdrum of fluttering dewdrops,
Bursting by bambino pride of new lifing,
Senile fore, fading away, the sun atop!

Fledglings of the morning beauty,
Savage bells of evening jingles,
Famished are woods of abundance,
Perilous waters preen caving dens.

Creaky cliffs, ripe with must
Leather boots and all that dust,
Masking threats of fortitude,
Copious girth of hostile argot.

Decked on thrones of avarice,
sits crowned the peaks of mapled bliss.
Whistling pensive songs to self,
Living the air of common turf.

Vibrant whirls, sacred thought,
Placating the rush of touch-me-nots!
Afresh from dusky dowagers,
Scented droves of moringa lingers!