- Books, Literature, and Writing
Royalty in the Forest
The sounds of the forest cease as I walk towards my throne.
I sit with my scepter lying across my person.
The sounds of the forest awaken as they absorb my presence. A tree frog sings the lost songs of summer. Two grey squirrels rush to stash the fallen hickory nuts. Three crows guard the realm from the air.
And I sit with my scepter lying across my person.
The air is damp and cold.
The breeze is gentle and cool. A dog barks, interrupting the tree frog's song, but only for a moment.
The rain drizzles, but then stops, then starts again.
And I sit, waiting, with my scepter lying across my person.
He cautiously steps to the edge of the clearing.
His countenance is regal.
The forest seems to bow to his presence.
The sounds of the forest become a royal chorus.
And I sit, waiting, my scepter pointing at his heart, mindful of his crown.
He gracefully moves to the center of the clearing that he knows to be his, yet my presence is sensed.
He bows his head, and I wait no longer, my scepter exploding the frogs' last song of the summer.
The two squirrels take shelter among their stash.
The three crows cry the alarm, helpless, yet unwilling to leave their post.
And I, with my scepter, give thanks for the gifts of the forest.