I breathe the smell of moistened green
Twisting, tangled undergrowth neath
Dripping canopy of shadow- light; as
Foxgloves pierce through, spear like
On single stems of royal bells, deep
With nectar for searching bees.
A Chiff Chaff greets me repeatedly
Calling of its identity; a Robin trills
Voices of cyclists filter then disappear
As I pause on the soft absorbing path
Self-Seeking in this woodland; who am I?
With lake side edge; a whisper away.