Tiny Town

There we lived in Tiny Town
a city with no walls

But for pines

and evergreens
who made our beds
and called

come lay with me

and play with me
sweep paths
adventure bound

as needles crunch beneath us

a secret world unknown
sing and laugh and gallop
a picnic for the soul

while towering trees and evening breeze
enraptured every soul

laugh and love and languish

listen to the trees
swaying heights of beauty
dancing  just for me

so lay upon the needled bed

and stare upon the sky
peaceful rows of grandeur
cloudless grace floats by

drink the sweet aroma
a cup of carefree days
scented by serenity
I pine for you, oh pines

Patricia Spreng

Gathering at d'Verse Poets tonight for the telling of a fairy tale.  Come join us for the wonderful words of poets.  The prompt reminded me of Tiny Town.  A real place my sisters and I created in our childhood on top of a hill, in the woods behind our cabin.  It was a fairy tale land alright...where no ghosts or goblins threatened us... it was safe.  Now, isn't that a fairy tale?  I tried to stay away from the rhythm and rhyme of this piece.  But it took on a life of its own and became childlike in its skipping rhythm.