Just Suppose... (Poetry)

                                this row of trees that curtains off
the vulgar brick-bomb wave which ruins all
and cuts imagination’s view
obliterates or else obscures
greedy for the greenery in mind ...
oh just suppose for a glad moment
such intrusive urban sprawl was denied
any reason to exist and these staunch trees —
a great towering of pines
and mix of birches, elms and oaks
were sacred to some ancient tale
that wove a woodland rooted strong
preserved forever in a childhood dream
of miles and miles of magic forest
stretching on and on ...

And as dusk falls
its grey fingers touching leaf and limb
a distant tawny calls
owl-song beckoning the night
then peering from behind a pillowed cloud
the moon’s pale enigmatic face
picks out in her uncertain light
a path meandering —
a breadcrumb trail that leads and lures
the bedtime story lingering
not forgotten after all
the child within looks deep and sees
a glow far-off between the trees —
a witch’s cottage surely as the scene is set
for timeless fantasy