Limbs

A poem written on a day spent in one of my most favorite places, the woods.

"Limbs"

So long, and yet so limber.
Soothing, and warm.
I'd sit and wonder, how nice to belong.
Not on the street, the park or a lake,
this was my retreat, and in awe I would take.
Gentle and calm, no pain or dismay,
a place to hide from all they would say.
So high in the air, great strength all around,
amazing perfection, from nature abound.
Not fancy or rich, I rest in her limbs,
east to dream of a life untortured by sins.
Smells of green moss, of rich acorns of many,
this was my place, my hours of plenty.