MISSISSIPPI RAMBLE

I trudged the forest fortress butes
And clambered bout the tangled roots.
O'er the jagged, box-like rocks,
Past the hollow stumps, now crocks.

Twas just before the snow would come,
Mid trees where snowy buntings clung;
Where cedar roots cleave the ledge
Of secret lakes, and mark their edge.

Twas there I found the gift was rife,
Most precious gift of all of life.
There I melded into it,
The forest and the craggy pit.

Twas there I found the manger scene
Of lithesome buck and peregrine
Of wiseman owl and stealthy fox
Whose given gifts were of their frocks.

copyright - Dave Martin Dec 2001