Woodland Muse

I heard a cryptic melody, and knew it held a clue. To some it was a muted hush, but others surely knew. Yes I could hear the poetry that hid within the beech. The subtle music of the woods, was well within my reach. A breeze careened among the trees conducting symphonies, to empty coves of brush and brier, with only me to please. And I could hear the water play within our babbling creek, and listen to its gentle voice as if the stream could speak. And as the trees swayed to and fro, there was a pleasing sound like rocking chairs to lull to sleep, a spotted fawn I found. And last, but certainly not the least, where bees had made a hive, within a shattered dying giant, the sweetness would survive. And by that ragged oak I rest, in silent reverie. And I still hear that woodland song, beneath the honey tree.