There are places in deep forests,
Where old moths weep dewdrops & butterflies
talk,
Where footsteps of legends, echo where they walk,
Where one hears the voices, of small & unseen
folk,
Where one feels wrapped, within the magic they
evoke.
There are places in arid hot deserts,
Where gentle dying whisperings, are so often heard,
Where sand cradles souls, of every creature &
flying bird,
Where sunshine is silence & good friend of
golden noons,
Where secrets are told, only to the beams of silver
moons.
There are places upon soft sea-shores,
Where old mermaids, make their whelk-skin silken
beds,
Where words of God are spoken & Angels dare
to tread,
Where rainbows meet skies, in their berry-hued
embrace,
Where errant footsteps of man, disappear without
a trace.
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