Early morning, when mist clings to trees
In wooded hollow, only stirred by a breeze
Close by, lapping of ocean weaves a spell
Image of peaceful security, nature sells

Nature after dark, can be a scary place
When misty wooded haven, changes face
As spindled branches, adorning trees
Stretch-catching anything, moving free

Vision is restricted, by cloudy skies
When moon and stars, stay hidden on high
Uneven ground, with scattered roots trip
As leaves and wet soil, under feet slip

If lucky light filtered, by a shiny moon
Looking down upon scene, uplifting gloom
Stars may twinkle, allow spiritual lift
In a place where echoes, haunt and drift

Yet on a peaceful morning, at waking dawn
Nothing appears sinister, a new day born
Welcome's hope, to caste its magic spell
AS warming sun convinces, all is well......