Magic Forest

• Annabel Mills, Grade 2
• Poetry
• 2017

I hear a soft breeze
Coming from the swaying oak trees.
The night falls quickly in the magic forest.
I hear the howling wind talking to me.

No one else can see it
So let them be it.
I listen sweetly to the star
I know I am not far.

The magic forest guides me
And is never drawn behind me.

I close my eyes gently as I lay down
And rest my hands on the magic forest floor
And close the sacred door.
The star says goodnight and nothing is bright.