The Escapist's Sanctuary

• Ruby Grayson, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2012

A child resides neath oaks, amidst autumn debris on forest floor
Waning hymns and chirr of branches washes him to sleep's shore.
He need not use a cunning Trojan Horse nor ride a fierce cavalry
Friends, we summon you to join, for this door needs no key.

Here, who needs a dated fob-watch, when time you cannot trust?
Where beauty never weathers, its’ clockwork reduced to rust.
Beneath untainted ether, creatures wander a flourishing plain
Translucent streams will run evermore by forthcoming rain.

He'd amble leisurely through unscathed trees none would dare mar
Only counting blessings, in this age such greatness is bizarre.
Howbeit confined loneliness shadows him, a silent melancholy
To be as desolate as the moon, was but a gift for a boy like he.

Hunger to adhere to a Utopia; it is the root of emotional fasts
Yet, we realize from ancient knowledge, perfection never lasts.
The ominous sun gave Midas' touch to the wood's thickset canopy
And so returned the beckoning call of his sanctuary.