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Poem by Eleanor Farjeon
The Mysterious Forest
I stood on the verge of the mysterious forest, Sunlight lay behind me on the meadows, But all the world of the mysterious forest Was a world of wraiths and shadows. The dim trees beckoned, beckoned with their branches, I said: "The sun's behind me on the meadows." A dim voice calling, calling through the branches From the world of wraiths and shadows. I saw a pale young Queen, her eyes were mournful, Steal ghostwise ... is the sun yet on the meadows?... More phantoms passed and all their eyes were mournful In the world of wraiths and shadows. I see a blue light in the mysterious forest, The cold night lies behind me on the meadows. The branches beckon in the mysterious forest ... They beckon, beckon, beckon, call and beckon From the world of wraiths and shadows.
Eleanor Farjeon's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org