Dark Forest

• John Bivell, Grade 5
• Poetry
• 2011

Mountains there were, tall and proud,
Each peak topped with snow and cloud.
Ragged as the earth, cold and cruel,
Yet many were most beautiful.
High as sky borne winds aloft,
Strong as giants’ mighty wrath.
And Eitheglim, the twofold peak,
Whose roots a forest, silent, deep
Grew in twilight of the moon
Lavished under shadows’ gloom.
Great looming oaks, twisting beech,
Where rowan gripping, shadows creep.
Dwell under dark of deathly pine
Wolves and spiders, of darker times.
Evil laced the withered leaves,
The souls of hate, no light perceives.