Have fear my little mythical creatures Found running and making wild in the woods Paint a magical pole of strange features Nearby the mound of your ancestor 'hoods
Like green moss crawling along a dark wave Into a pleasent valley rich in depth Wild flowers clinging to mouth of cave Glancing behind into a dark woods breadth
You only spoke to me on sunny days Playfully throwing little sticks and stones Laughing and hiding from hot sunny rays By making all those strange noises unknown
Fear cast the shadow of an old grey bird One dark screech rest your soul be ever heard
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2012
About this poem:
About this poem: Inspired from tales told in Native American cultures..mostly the the Choctaw and Chickasaw...of the Misssissippi.
Macduff5Newcastle, New South Wales AustraliaAug 3, 2012
Hi Yankee,
Another polished sonnet on Nature and those mythical creatures of the forest.
Odette67Penrith, Cumbria, England UKAug 10, 2012
You only spoke to me on sunny days Playfully throwing little sticks and stones Laughing and hiding from hot sunny rays By making all those strange noises unknown
Dear Yankee,
Great poem, about a great people. I have read much about the American Indian. We always thought they were the baddies...Not so.
Thanks McDuff and Odette...for your nice comments...you certainly have been die-hard supporters of me over time ..and I appreciate your comments. I am trying to decide if I should take an extended break from the poet's corner for awhile? I am experiencing a great defecit of time to put into my writing and the also the time I am available to help encourage other many gifted poets on this page. I am feeling very weary of it all right now..
niah9Auckland, New ZealandAug 16, 2012
The title pulled me in and I wasn't disappointed.....I think we all feel drained at time Yankee4u.....oftenb a breif spell revives us....kathy
Comments (4)
Another polished sonnet on Nature and those mythical creatures of the forest.
Playfully throwing little sticks and stones
Laughing and hiding from hot sunny rays
By making all those strange noises unknown
Dear Yankee,
Great poem, about a great people. I have read much about the American Indian. We always thought they were the baddies...Not so.