Forests

Far away from the crowds and the smoke of cities, In the secrecy of old valleys There lived for more than centuries Majestic mazes whose mysterious alleys Under domes of leaves are alive and listening. These puzzling kingdoms, troubled or calm, Have fragrances which can embalm Poor hovels and make them the palace of a king. Wonderful places where time seems to stop its flow, Blessed by fairies or haunted by crows Where live unknown and strange beings, And where one can find the best and the darkest things. These mysterious realms are the forests of old, Some red as fire, some green as hope, And in winter dark and snow-cold Hidden in deep valleys or on a moutain slope.