Enchanted Forest

The sun shines through the pine trees in the Enchanted Forest,
Moss as thick as a carpet, cool and damp underfoot.
Trees uprooted by wind and snowfall from winters past,
Lay on the forest floor, like the graves of heroes gone,
Or decaying bones of slayed dragons from another time.
Is this where they live? Faeries, goblins, elves and trolls?
Do they hide in amongst the trees or under the roots?
Is this where giants stride amongst the trees
pushing them aside like long grass?
The visitor breathes in the sharp, northern air, enraptured by the beauty
Of this place of natural magic and wonder, a place of calm.
Sighing and turning away, she returns to the reality of the harsh grey world,
Of cars, noise and modernity, vowing to return to her faerie kingdom soon.