Grace Whyte

London, UK

King Of The Forest

Stillness of forest like a cathedral, tall trees
arched above boy's head, he walked lightly on a
carpet of leaves which deadened sound of his tread.
He walked slowly in cool green, no warm breeze
caressed his cheek for he had come to enjoy nature
no human contact did he seek.
A squirrel scampered up a tall Beech, chattering wildly
in his fear, something told him of boy's intrusion
treading softly on lush ground.
Silence broke, he heard a crashing of some great beast
through woodland green, there before him stood a red
stag most stately creature ever seen.
He eyed boy strangely with his dark eyes, pawed ground
beneath his hoof, his antlers raised he bellowed in
anger it echoed to leaves woven roof.
Boy stood and watched completely spellbound, shook
beneath king's hard glare, stag took one leap, a
glorious vision of powerful beauty went through the air.
Boy left forest walked into sunlight, stag continued
with his reign, boy won't forget his confrontation
with that red stag in his domain.
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