Joan Lewington

Brixham, Devon, UK

The Forest

Gently the river flows
Beside the dark forest.
In season when the salmon swim
Upstream to spawn.
The forest, a guardian
Stately, majestic
Is caressed by the moonlight
And kissed by the dawn.

Silent a church stands
By the dark forest.
Silent the ruins of
A great Hall..
But dawn stirs a chorus
Near the dark forest
Blackbird and thrush
With a cuckoo's loud call.

Beauty and peace dwell
Within the dark forest
When old country lanes
Are with primroses lined..
Where the daffodils blaze in
Green water meadows
The charm of Old England
Is in colour defined.
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