I once dreamt of the forest deity,

And she summoned me to her abode.

In a distant woodland where she dwelt,

Along with her old woody neighbours.   

I then set afoot for her home where,

The path stretched amidst cool silence,

Of mossy boughs and coalescing foliage        

Sitting in communion with their maker  

As I entered the hall, I wondered

Who hath built those verdant roofs? 

Made of vast overstory of trees,

Sheltering dwarf hedges and larkspurs

The living room had rugs of lush grass,

Embellished with primulas and columbines 

Scent of wild Monet’s daylilies lingered there,

While corners were adorned with,

Dainty asters bathed in nothing just light.  

Every day the large arms of tree servants,

Opened in grace and grandeur

To spread warmth and sieved sunlight,

In the household of the forest deity.