The groaning of oaks as they swayed,The grass-sweeping hangings of a willow,Far surpassed the hoot of a barn;She growled yet somehow it went shallow.And now the pines were piningOrange trees dropped thumping fruits on groundShe whined at all the sounds she could hearBut see not a soul around!
She ran as fast as her giant paws could takeLeft the ghostly wood sounds behindAnd finally heard her own footstepsBut stopping made it all rewind.This time the gnarled hands- no, branches!Of the wrinkliest cinnamon tree caught herShe puffed out the air that caught at her throatAs the woods seemed to start their banter!
'We once had water flow down our veins,And feathered creatures nest in us.Our green haired canopy did reach the skiesWe'd inhabit your furry friends in our truss!We kept our silent slumber when manCrawled up with their axesAnd there came some who hugged usTo stop the others, became human fences.That day we learned men won't listen to their kind(As we do amongst us as a tree lot)Hence our trusses and nests and armsWere cut to splinters your paws now trod on'
The dark woods pressing in on herSeemed to stare her downAnd with her thumping heart she heardA final orange thumping the groundThe woods vanished, the birds stopping singingThe howls were gone, no familiar soundAnd now she saw again the desertedThat once forest, now can never be crowned
Hannah, I do not have any experience of ever visiting a desert, so all I thought of for your Friday challenge at Imaginary Garden was "being deserted".