Walk Through The Woods

There's a fearless wonder about her face

as she gazes steadily around this place.

With an air of mystery running through,

she searches thoroughly about this view.

.

The graceful trickle of water slips

down slender banks of muddy strips.

The faintest whisper of childish glee

keeps her in chilling company.

.

Vivid colours assault her stare,

unprepared for their returning glare;

Emerald, fuchsia, bronze, amber

invite her seductively as she clambers

.

through thickets of quick thorns

as elegant wind scorns

her lack of tidy grace,

her slow, scrambling pace.

.

Her path continues further on,

no end in sight, the finale gone

as the mist descends to the ground

no hope for help to be found.

.

Trudging on is the only way

to make it through this slow decay

of wonder and light, a sallow grey

marring future colours from display.

.

But as she walks it becomes clear

that things will focus upon drawing near.

It just takes time to clear the mist,

a walk not a sprint – to just exist.