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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/1836292-The-Old-Pine
Rated: E · Poetry · Contest Entry · #1836292
A door carved into a tree leads to another world.
I had carved the port hole
into the old pine,
and a chamber large enough
for me and a few small trinkets
of my desire.

I have fashioned a door
out of an old barrel cover,
large enough for me to shim through,
yet solid, and sealed,
to keep out the weather.

It is here that I retreat,
a place to hide
from the gathering storms of life.

I have stocked my chamber
with wondrous works,
Stevenson and Tolkien,
gatekeepers to foreign lands,
and keepers of hidden lore.

If I disappear some day,
and do not return,
Do not search, do not worry,
for I am off on brilliant adventures,
and will return in due course.

For it is here that I blossom,
a place to explore,
creating gathering storms of life.
© Copyright 2011 Turtle ~ KanyáthƐko:wa:h (marnts at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/1836292-The-Old-Pine