Poet’s Corner: ‘Trailing Arbutus’

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Trailing Arbutus

The forest floor in early spring
Doesn’t look like anything
Of value there would e’er be found,
Until I start to crawl around.

And there beneath the littered leaves
And winter-beaten crumpled weeds,
Small jewels eager fingers find
Sprouting from a woody vine.

My small bouquet I smuggle home,
A treasure from my woodland roam.
The tiny blossoms’ fragrance then
Brings me to my knees again.
                        © Deelight Zitzelberger. All rights reserved.

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