[Soaring Feather]

Ah, the lofty pines
soft needles under foot
bedding for the deer
and quiet rendezvous with a friend
on warm Fall afternoons.

A picnic basket, bread and wine
mine eyes seek only to speak
of gentleness and thou
toasting one another to a friendship grand.

How many stars shine for lovers?
How many comet tails on fire do we see?
Are there faeries in the pines
and does the Grey Wolf rule the land?
Of the lofty, lonely pines we sing
who in the wind bemoan their plight,
and sighing, moaning, in the night.

The silent spruce, thick and full
offers a quiet respite, all dressed in blue.
So journey there in mountains tall
and remember me in the Fall.

bentfeather

[Old Sarge]

Journey to the tamaracks
and hear the silence all around!
Walk beneath the Douglas Fir
and strain to hear the quiet sound.

Hissing all around, above you,
if the northern wind should blow,
news and tidings passing by you
in a tongue only they know.

Sighs and groanings, branches swaying
back and forth, in rising breezes,
longing to know what they're saying
what might anger, or what pleases.

Spruce and cedar, fir and pine,
tamarack and evergreen,
no place I know, more fair and fine
than the forests have ever been!