Ye learnèd sisters, which have oftentimes
Beene to me ayding, others to adorne,
Whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull rymes,
That even the greatest did not greatly scorne
To heare theyr names sung in your simple layes,
But joyèd in theyr praise;
And when ye list your owne mishaps to mourne,
Which death, or love, or fortunes wreck did rayse,
Your string could soone to sadder tenor turne,
And teach the woods and waters to lament
Your dolefull dreriment:
Now lay those sorrowfull complaints aside;
And, having all your heads with girlands crownd,
Helpe me mine owne loves prayses to resound;
Ne let the same of any be envide:
So Orpheus did for his owne bride!
So I unto my selfe alone will sing;
The woods shall to me answer, and my Eccho ring.

Early, before the worlds light-giving lampe
His golden beame upon the hils doth spred,
Having disperst the nights unchearefull dampe,
Doe ye awake; and, with fresh *****-hed,
Go to the bowre of my belovèd love,
My truest turtle dove;
Bid her awake; for ***** is awake,
And long since ready forth his maske to move,
With his bright Tead that flames with many a flake,
And many a bachelor to waite on him,
In theyr fresh garments trim.
Bid her awake therefore, and soone her dight,
For lo! the wishèd day is come at last,
That shall, for all the paynes and sorrowes past,
Pay to her usury of long delight:
And, whylest she doth her dight,
Doe ye to her of joy and solace sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Bring with you all the Nymphes that you can heare
Both of the rivers and the forrests greene,
And of the sea that neighbours to her neare:
Al with gay girlands goodly wel beseene.
And let them also with them bring in hand
Another gay girland
For my fayre love, of lillyes and of roses,
Bound truelove wize, with a blew silke riband.
And let them make great store of bridale poses,
And let them eeke bring store of other flowers,
To deck the bridale bowers.
And let the ground whereas her foot shall tread,
For feare the stones her tender foot should wrong,
Be strewed with fragrant flowers all along,
And diapred lyke the discolored mead.
Which done, doe at her chamber dore awayt,
For she will waken strayt;
The whiles doe ye this song unto her sing,
The woods shall to you answer, and your Eccho ring.

Ye Nymphes of Mulla, which with carefull heed
The silver scaly trouts doe tend full well,
And greedy pikes which use therein to feed;
(Those trouts and pikes all others doo excell;)
And ye likewise, which keepe the rushy lake,
Where none doo fishes take;
Bynd up the locks the which hang scatterd light,
And in his waters, which your mirror make,
Behold your faces as the christall bright,
That when you come whereas my love doth lie,
No blemish she may spie.
And eke, ye lightfoot mayds, which keepe the deere,
That on the hoary mountayne used to towre;
And the wylde wolves, which seeke them to devoure,
With your steele darts doo chace from comming neer;
Be also present heere,
To helpe to decke her, and to help to sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Wake now, my love, awake! for it is time;
The Rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed,
All ready to her silver coche to clyme;
And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed.
Hark! how the cheerefull birds do chaunt theyr laies
And carroll of Loves praise.
The merry Larke hir mattins sings aloft;
The Thrush replyes; the Mavis descant playes;
The Ouzell shrills; the Ruddock warbles soft;
So goodly all agree, with sweet consent,
To this dayes merriment.
Ah! my deere love, why doe ye sleepe thus long?
When meeter were that ye should now awake,
T’ awayt the comming of your joyous make,
And hearken to the birds love-learnèd song,
The deawy leaves among!
Nor they of joy and pleasance to you sing,
That all the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring.

My love is now awake out of her dreames,
And her fayre eyes, like stars that dimmèd were
With darksome cloud, now shew theyr goodly beams
More bright then Hesperus his head doth rere.
Come now, ye damzels, daughters of delight,
Helpe quickly her to dight:
But first come ye fayre houres, which were begot
In Joves sweet paradice of Day and Night;
Which doe the seasons of the yeare allot,
And al, that ever in this world is fayre,
Doe make and still repayre:
And ye three handmayds of the Cyprian Queene,
The which doe still adorne her beauties pride,
Helpe to addorne my beautifullest bride:
And, as ye her array, still throw betweene
Some graces to be seene;
And, as ye use to Venus, to her sing,
The whiles the woods shal answer, and your eccho ring.

Now is my love all ready forth to come:
Let all the virgins therefore well awayt:
And ye fresh boyes, that tend upon her groome,
Prepare your selves; for he is comming strayt.
Set all your things in seemely good aray,
Fit for so joyfull day:
The joyfulst day that ever sunne did see.
Faire Sun! shew forth thy favourable ray,
And let thy lifull heat not fervent be,
For feare of burning her sunshyny face,
Her beauty to disgrace.
O fayrest Phoebus! father of the Muse!
If ever I did honour thee aright,
Or sing the thing that mote thy mind delight,
Doe not thy servants simple boone refuse;
But let this day, let this one day, be myne;
Let all the rest be thine.
Then I thy soverayne prayses loud wil sing,
That all the woods shal answer, and theyr eccho ring.

Harke! how the Minstrils gin to shrill aloud
Their merry Musick that resounds from far,
The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling Croud,
That well agree withouten breach or jar.
But, most of all, the Damzels doe delite
When they their tymbrels smyte,
And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet,
That all the sences they doe ravish quite;
The whyles the boyes run up and downe the street,
Crying aloud with strong confusèd noyce,
As if it were one voyce,
*****, iö *****, *****, they do shout;
That even to the heavens theyr shouting shrill
Doth reach, and all the firmament doth fill;
To which the people standing all about,
As in approvance, doe thereto applaud,
And loud advaunce her laud;
And evermore they *****, ***** sing,
That al the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring.

Loe! where she comes along with portly pace,
Lyke Phoebe, from her chamber of the East,
Arysing forth to run her mighty race,
Clad all in white, that seemes a ****** best.
So well it her beseemes, that ye would weene
Some angell she had beene.
Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre,
Sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres atweene,
Doe lyke a golden mantle her attyre;
And, being crownèd with a girland greene,
Seeme lyke some mayden Queene.
Her modest eyes, abashèd to behold
So many gazers as on her do stare,
Upon the lowly ground affixèd are;
Ne dare lift up her countenance too bold,
But blush to heare her prayses sung so loud,
So farre from being proud.
Nathlesse doe ye still loud her prayses sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Tell me, ye merchants daughters, did ye see
So fayre a creature in your towne before;
So sweet, so lovely, and so mild as she,
Adornd with beautyes grace and vertues store?
Her goodly eyes lyke Saphyres shining bright,
Her forehead yvory white,
Her cheekes lyke apples which the sun hath rudded,
Her lips lyke cherryes charming men to byte,
Her brest like to a bowle of creame uncrudded,
Her paps lyke lyllies budded,
Her snowie necke lyke to a marble towre;
And all her body like a pallace fayre,
Ascending up, with many a stately stayre,
To honors seat and chastities sweet bowre.
Why stand ye still ye virgins in amaze,
Upon her so to gaze,
Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing,
To which the woods did answer, and your eccho ring?

But if ye saw that which no eyes can see,
The inward beauty of her lively spright,
Garnisht with heavenly guifts of high degree,
Much more then would ye wonder at that sight,
And stand astonisht lyke to those which red
Medusaes mazeful hed.
There dwels sweet love, and constant chastity,
Unspotted fayth, and comely womanhood,
Regard of honour, and mild modesty;
There vertue raynes as Queene in royal throne,
And giveth lawes alone,
The which the base affections doe obay,
And yeeld theyr services unto her will;
Ne thought of thing uncomely ever may
Thereto approch to tempt her mind to ill.
Had ye once seene these her celestial threasures,
And unrevealèd pleasures,
Then would ye wonder, and her prayses sing,
That al the woods should answer, and your echo ring.

Open the temple gates unto my love,
Open them wide that she may enter in,
And all the postes adorne as doth behove,
And all the pillours deck with girlands trim,
For to receyve this Saynt with honour dew,
That commeth in to you.
With trembling steps, and humble reverence,
She commeth in, before th’ Almighties view;
Of her ye virgins learne obedience,
When so ye come into those holy places,
To humble your proud faces:
Bring her up to th’ high altar, that she may
The sacred ceremonies there partake,
The which do endlesse matrimony make;
And let the roring Organs loudly play
The praises of the Lord in lively notes;
The whiles, with hollow throates,
The Choristers the joyous Antheme sing,
That al the woods may answere, and their eccho ring.

Behold, whiles she before the altar stands,
Hearing the holy priest that to her speakes,
And blesseth her with his two happy hands,
How the red roses flush up in her cheekes,
And the pure snow, with goodly vermill stayne
Like crimsin dyde in grayne:
That even th’ Angels, which continually
About the sacred Altare doe remaine,
Forget their service and about her fly,
Ofte peeping in her face, that seems more fayre,
The more they on it stare.
But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground,
Are governèd with goodly modesty,
That suffers not one looke to glaunce awry,
Which may let in a little thought unsownd.
Why blush ye, love, to give to me your hand,
The pledge of all our band!
Sing, ye sweet Angels, Alleluya sing,
That all the woods may answere, and your eccho ring.

Now al is done: bring home the bride againe;
Bring home the triumph of our victory:
Bring home with you the glory of her gaine;
With joyance bring her and with jollity.
Never had man more joyfull day then this,
Whom heaven would heape with blis,
Make feast therefore now all this live-long day;
This day for ever to me holy is.
Poure out the wine without restraint or stay,
Poure not by cups, but by the belly full,
Poure out to all that wull,
And sprinkle all the postes and wals with wine,
That they may sweat, and drunken be withall.
Crowne ye God Bacchus with a coronall,
And ***** also crowne with wreathes of vine;
And let the Graces daunce unto the rest,
For they can doo it best:
The whiles the maydens doe theyr carroll sing,
To which the woods shall answer, and theyr eccho ring.

Ring ye the bels, ye yong men of the towne,
And leave your wonted labors for this day:
This day is holy; doe ye write it downe,
That ye for ever it remember may.
This day the sunne is in his chiefest hight,
With Barnaby the bright,
From whence declining daily by degrees,
He somewhat loseth of his heat and light,
When once the Crab behind his back he sees.
But for this time it ill ordainèd was,
To chose the longest day in all the yeare,
And shortest night, when longest fitter weare:
Yet never day so long, but late would passe.
Ring ye the bels, to make it weare away,
And bonefiers make all day;
And daunce about them, and about them sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

Ah! when will this long weary day have end,
And lende me leave to come unto my love?
How slowly do the houres theyr numbers spend?
How slowly does sad Time his feathers move?
Hast thee, O fayrest Planet, to thy home,
Within the Westerne fome:
Thy tyrèd steedes long since have need of rest.
Long though it be, at last I see it gloome,
And the bright evening-star with golden creast
Appeare out of the East.
Fayre childe of beauty! glorious lampe of love!
That all the host of heaven in rankes doost lead,
And guydest lovers through the nights sad dread,
How chearefully thou lookest from above,
And seemst to laugh atweene thy twinkling light,
As joying in the sight
Of these glad many, which for joy doe sing,
That all the woods them answer, and their echo ring!

Now ceasse, ye damsels, your delights fore-past;
Enough it is that all the day was youres:
Now day is doen, and night is nighing fast,
Now bring the Bryde into the brydall boures.
The night is come, now soon her disaray,
And in her bed her lay;
Lay her in lillies and in violets,
And silken courteins over her display,
And odourd sheetes, and Arras coverlets.
Behold how goodly my faire love does ly,
In proud humility!
Like unto Maia, when as Jove her took
In Tempe, lying on the flowry gras,
Twixt sleepe and wake, after she weary was,
With bathing in the Acidalian brooke.
Now it is night, ye damsels may be gon,
And leave my love alone,
And leave likewise your former lay to sing:
The woods no more shall answere, nor your echo ring.

Now welcome, night! thou night so long expected,
That long daies labour doest at last defray,
And all my cares, which cruell Love collected,
Hast sumd in one, and cancellèd for aye:
Spread thy broad wing over my love and me,
That no man may us see;
And in thy sable mantle us enwrap,
From feare of perrill and foule horror free.
Let no false treason seeke us to entrap,
Nor any dread disquiet once annoy
The safety of our joy;
But let the night be calme, and quietsome,
Without tempestuous storms or sad afray:
Lyke as when Jove with fayre Alcmena lay,
When he begot the great Tirynthian groome:
Or lyke as when he with thy selfe did lie
And begot Majesty.
And let the mayds and yong men cease to sing;
Ne let the woods them answer nor theyr eccho ring.

Let no lamenting cryes, nor dolefull teares,
Be heard all night within, nor yet without:
Ne let false whispers, breeding hidden feares,
Breake gentle sleepe with misconceivèd dout.
Let no deluding dreames, nor dreadfull sights,
Make sudden sad affrights;
Ne let house-fyres, nor lightnings helpelesse harmes,
Ne let the Pouke, nor other evill sprights,
Ne let mischivous witches with theyr charmes,
Ne let hob Goblins, names whose sence we see not,
Fray us with things that be not:
Let not the shriech Oule nor the Storke be heard,
Nor the night Raven, that still deadly yels;
Nor damnèd ghosts, cald up with mighty spels,
Nor griesly vultures, make us once affeard:
Ne let th’ unpleasant Quyre of Frogs still croking
Make us to wish theyr choking.
Let none of these theyr drery accents sing;
Ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring.

But let stil Silence trew night-watches keepe,
That sacred Peace may in assurance rayne,
And tymely Sleep, when it is tyme to sleepe,
May poure his limbs forth on your pleasant playne;
The whiles an hundred little wingèd loves,
Like divers-fethered doves,
Shall fly and flutter round about your bed,
And in the secret darke, that none reproves,
Their prety stealthes shal worke, and snares shal spread
To filch away sweet snatches of delight,
Conceald through covert night.
Ye sonnes of Venus, play your sports at will!
For greedy pleasure, carelesse of your toyes,
Thinks more upon her paradise of joyes,
Then what ye do, albe it good or ill.
All night therefore attend your merry play,
For it will soone be day:
Now none doth hinder you, that say or sing;
Ne will the woods now answer, nor your Eccho ring.

Who is the same, which at my window peepes?
Or whose is that faire face that shines so bright?
Is it not Cinthia, she that never sleepes,
But walkes about high heaven al the night?
O! fayrest goddesse, do thou not envy
My love with me to spy:
For thou likewise didst love, though now unthought,
And for a fleece of wooll, which privily
The Latmian shepherd once unto thee brought,
His pleasures with thee wrought.
Therefore to us be favorable now;
And sith of wemens labours thou hast charge,
And generation goodly dost enlarge,
Encline thy will t’effect our wishfull vow,
And the chast wombe informe with timely seed
That may our comfort breed:
Till which we cease our hopefull hap to sing;
Ne let the woods us answere, nor our Eccho ring.

And thou, great Juno! which with awful might
The lawes of wedlock still dost patronize;
And the religion of the faith first plight
With sacred rites hast taught to solemnize;
And eeke for comfort often callèd art
Of women in their smart;
Eternally bind thou this lovely band,
And all thy blessings unto us impart.
And thou, glad

The woods begin where the backyard ends.
When my brother and I go to the woods,
we are not brothers anymore. We are kings.

Or explorers. Or astronauts. Or spies.

In the woods, we are anything we want to be.
In the woods, we forget about school.
We forget about homework.
We forget about time.

The path through the woods is narrow.
We walk single-file between the trees and brambles.
Later, we’ll pull the leaves from our hair and compare
the scratches on our arms, the places where are clothes have torn.

If we walk deeper into the woods,
across the train tracks, and turn around,
we can see the roof of our house above the treetops.

Below the train tracks, a shallow creek waits.
The rocks are tan and smooth; they skip across
the water like insects.
Mud comes in many forms; we know them all.

The weather in the woods is not like weather
anywhere else. When it rains in the woods,
we hear the drops falling before we feel them.
In the woods, sunshine is a treasure that dissolves in our hands.
Snow is a white map.

If you go with us into the woods, you have to be quiet.
You have to watch out for wolves.
And bandits.
And quicksand.

Sometimes it feels like we could stay in the woods forever.
Sometimes we race through the trees with our eyes half-closed,
daring the woods to contain us. And sometimes we hide
in the woods for hours, waiting for what we know will come:
the clang of a bell being rung from the back porch:
the sound of our mother calling us home.

A semi-truck, half-overturned, blocked the road. The driver’s cab, dangling on its broken neck, had slid into a ditch, its nose pressed against the indifferent forest. I stopped and stepped out of my small car. Coming closer, I saw the driver inside the mangled cab, pinned in an unnatural position between two seats. With effort, I pried the door open and helped him out. He muttered, as if accusing me of something, that he’d been hopelessly freezing there for nearly four hours.

-----

Upon that road, forgotten, cold, and wide,
Where naught but shadows and the frost abide,
I sped, through woods where winds like demons scream,
And silent trees stretched forth their limbs to deem
The earth beneath them barren, lost, and lone—
A desolate stretch where none had ever flown.

Then, lo! Before me, halted, firm and still,
A mighty truck lay trapped, against its will.
The wheels, lifted up high, as if the heavens frowned,
The metal beast had tumbled, earthward bound.
Its cargo—frozen—locked within the grave
Of twisted steel, where none could hope be saved.

The driver, pale, within his cage of cold,
His limbs so stiff, his breath a tale untold,
Had spent the hours in silence and despair,
While winter’s breath did mock the frozen air.
“I’ve waited long,” he said, with voice so faint,
“I’ve waited long, for freedom’s kind restraint.”

But ere the sun could sink beneath the lea,
I reached him, hands, though trembling, firm and free,
I opened wide the door, though shiver’d soul,
And bade him rise, though all the world seemed cold.
Yet words between us neither rose nor fell—
What need of speech when all the world is still?

A truck arrived, a salt-streaked carriage bright,
And plowed the road to ease our frozen plight.
But though the salt may thaw the bitter ground,
The woods, and all their whispers, lingered round.
And as I drove, the silence grew and swelled,
The same as it had been, the same as it was held.

No grand event, no tearful words of thanks,
Just shadows in the woods, where darkness ranks,
And in the stillness, deep as any tomb,
We leave the road behind, its endless gloom.

-----------

I drove the road where no one else would go,
Through winter woods where cold and silence grow.
The trees stood bare, their branches stark and long,
As though the world had left them, cold and wrong.

Then, truck ahead, its black wheels ralling high,
The body half in snow, beneath the sky—
Pale frozen driver being trapped inside,
His breath like smoke, his hands unable to hide
The numbness creeping through his frozen veins,
A prisoner to winter’s icy chains.

I slowed and stepped into the biting air,
Where shadows of the branches filled the square
Of time we share, and none could say a word—
The quiet like a song that’s never heard.
He’d waited hours, alone, beneath the sky,
His fate uncertain as the night went by.

“We ain’t working today,” I said, and sighed,
While in the cold, the hours seemed to bide.
I opened cabin's door, a crack of light,
And helped him free, beneath the dull, gray night.

A salt truck came, its hum a steady sound,
But still the forest held its weight around.
The road, the truck, the driver all were gone,
Yet still the trees, the woods, the silence shone.

No words to say, no grand, heroic deed,
Just one small act to fill the quiet need.
And though the cold still clung to every breath,
The road ahead stretched out, a road to death,
Or life, or something in between. Who knows —
The woods will take what time and frost bestows.

-----------

I drove the road where no one else had gone,
Through woods that whispered of a time long passed,
Where frost hung like a memory, heavy, still—
A world forgotten, fading into glass.

Ahead, a truck lay stranded in the snow,
Its wheels raised high, a monument to loss,
The driver, pale, his breath a cloud of fear,
His frozen hands a testament to cost.

I stopped, my thoughts adrift in cold and time,
Where shadows seemed to gather, thick and wide.
The trees, as if they knew, bowed low, resigned,
Their branches tangled, searching for a guide.

"We’re not working today," I said aloud,
As if to say the world had shifted, changed,
That time, once moving, now had paused its course,
And now, I was the one to rearrange.

The echoes of our shadows circled near,
Spinning in dizzy dance that knows no end,
As urgent tasks dissolved into the air,
For one man's suffering, I chose to mend.

In stillness, where no ticking sound could play,
I held the weight of someone else’s plea.
The world could wait, the burdens be delayed,
For random mercy sets the spirit free.

The door I opened, though my hands did shake,
And helped him out, as though the day would break.
The salt truck came, its hum a distant song,
and woods stood still around us, deep and long.

No words of thanks, no praises to be heard,
Just silence thick, as if the air had stirred.
In that small act, a world of weight was lifted,
A breath of life, where all had once been shifted.

And though the road ahead seemed dark and cold,
The forest held its peace, unspoken, bold.
No grand event, no joyous tale to tell —
where stillness fell.

----------

I drove the road where no one else would be,
Through winter woods that dripped with cold and loss.
The trees were grey, their limbs as bare as bone,
As though the world had turned its back, and tossed.

Then, up ahead, a truck lay still, half caught,
Its wheels half-buried, trapped beneath the snow.
The driver sat inside, pale as the frost,
His breath a cloud, his hands too stiff to show.

I slowed and stepped out into biting air,
Where shadows of the branches reached and fell.
The quiet hung there thick, a heavy thing,
Like something waiting, waiting to be well.

He’d sat there hours, time too cold to count,
His fate a shadow stretching past the dusk.
I am here to help, I said, he heard, half dead,
While time, like snow, was caught in frozen husk.

I opened the door, I cracked it with my hands,
I helped him free, beneath the dull gray sky.
A truck came by, the salt spread thick and wide,
But still the woods stood silent, asking why.

Yet shadows murmured of a darker hour,
A tale of death, of breath returned by force.
A man, once buried, stepped into the light—
And from his rise, the quiet world took flight.

But in that moment, when the door was moved,
A gust like bitterness through silence proved
That power, once unleashed, will cleave the stone,
And those who tremble carve their fate alone.

The truck, its grip now shattered, loosed its hold,
We stand, entangled in a dream too cold.
The resurrection, like a fading cry,
Awaits the eyes that never seek the sky.

No cheers, no thanks, just silence, like a tomb,
The weight of time still heavy on the air.
And though we left, the forest kept its gloom,
A place of endings, still too much to bear.

-------------

The road pulled me in, as though it sought my name,
Through woods that whispered tales of things long gone,
Where branches reached like fingers, cold and tame,
And frost lay thick, the air so still, so drawn.

Ahead, a truck lay trapped beneath the sky,
Its wheels raised high, a monument to snow,
The driver pale, his breath a ghostly sigh,
A prisoner to the cold, nowhere to go.

I stopped, and time seemed frozen in its course,
The woods, the air, a silence too complete.
In that still moment, I felt fate’s strange force,
A path that turned, and now no task could cheat.

I opened the door, my hands too cold to feel,
And helped the driver out, as though the world would bend.
The salt truck hummed, its engine faint, unreal,
But still the woods held all, as if to end.

No thanks, no cheers, just something quiet, deep,
A weight that lingered where the silence grew,
And though I left, the naked woods still keep
The winding road, so black, so cold, so true.

By: L.D. Conner
  
     It’s dark in these woods. I might as well not have eyes. Just rip them out. Eat them with your teeth. There are teeth in these woods. Behind every tree, beneath every stone. The woods are dark at night, and I do not fear loneliness, but the absence of it. The teeth whisper in these woods. Muttering soft tones through their tongueless mouths, yet drool pools on the leaves, and seeps into my skin; into my pores. The potency of the whispers drill into my brain. Time is forgotten in these woods, the teeth keep me here; they sink into my flesh and pin me to the trees. The trees are everywhere in these woods. They lurk in the dark and block out the light; they swallow the light; hungry. I know I have been here too long. My stomach twists with hunger. My skin, I know, is pale as death. The sun has been drawn from my skin and given to the woods. The woods are not satisfied with the light. They begin to eat at my flesh. They use their teeth to break my bones. They slide my bones out of my skin. I can’t run now. My flesh starts to go; melts off into their mouths. I waste away. My bones, my flesh. My mind goes dead, and I cannot breathe. Then all of a sudden, It stops. It is now so quiet in these woods. I am suddenly alone, but I cannot keep on. I bleed out on the damp leaves. The woods have done their work. Now they soak in my blood through the soil; into their roots. My teeth are in the woods. I join the chorus of chattering whispers. I will never leave these woods. My home is in these woods.

I passed a small boy named Solomon Woods
deep in thought with a book
He licked a finger, turned a page
too engrossed to give me a look

I met a young lad named Solomon Woods
humming a gentle tune
He smiled and waved, shook my hand
and wished me a good afternoon

I danced with a friend named Solomon Woods
while he sang me one of his songs
What he lacked in skill he offset with zeal
and insisted I sang along

I sat with a man named Solomon Woods
glad of his still, gentle manner
His reliable smile and kind wise words
drowned out the usual clamour

I walked with a gent named Solomon Woods
glad of his confident stride
I knew for sure he faced the world
trusting God as his strength and guide

If you meet a man named Solomon Woods
he'll certainly stop for a while
If you have the time, he'll sing you a song
and leave you with a smile

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Nothing on me to light a fire
In this dark place
Only my instincts can save me
A shattered heart and torn soul
But I’m still holding on
There’s not much hope
But I hold faith
That one day I’ll make it free
From this place
I’ll do everything it takes
To get out of here alive
It’s not as easy as it sounds
The hardest things take time
And this is an endless war
Between a conscious mind
Of doubts and regrets
That fill an insomniacs head

All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chase me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
It gets lonely here in purgatory

Can you hear the howls,
screams and cries
Deafening to the ears
It’ll make you tremble and shake
You can’t give into fear
Or you won’t make it alive out of here
I’ve been facing down monsters one at a time
Too many at once and they’ll eat you alive
It’s not easy to decide
Which one will be next
Just hope that you don’t mess up
And end up dead
I’m locked and loaded
With guns in hand
I’m prepared as I’ll ever be
I’m gonna make it out of here eventually

All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chase me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
It gets lonely here in purgatory

The battles are far from over
Still on guard, ready to defend
Every corner I turn
It gives them a new chance
To catch me off guard
And rip me apart
I’ve got a lot of scars and marks
Barely scraped through
some of my past fights
At the last moments
I was able to turn the tides
How much longer
Can I keep myself alive
I guess the future holds the secrets
Just gotta keep moving
Until I find the exit light
And break free
of this apocalyptic dream

All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chase me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
It gets lonely here in purgatory

I’m panting
Taking a deep breath
Bite wounds in my leg
Hellhounds found me out
All is lost now
Guns are out of reach
Might as well accept my fate
Just give in
Let the monsters win
Sometimes you can’t beat a sin
Unless you devote
your unconditional love to him
This was something I never did
So where I’m going is uncertain
Now it’s finally time to
Let the curtain close
Shut my eyes
This is it
I’m torn to bits

All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chased me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
I died alone here in purgatory


(To be continued...)
©2018 Written By Benji James

There's woods outside of town aways
that I will not go near
There's tales of ghosts and monsters
And I don't like the things I hear

There's screeching noises unlike those
Any animal can make
Even in the daylight
Those woods just make me shake

I've heard tales of people who
Let their dogs out after dark
They come back, all scared and skittered
And they never ever bark

There's something in those woods I say
Strong magic is around
There's tales of children disappearing
Never to be found

Three years ago I walked on past
And I heard a noise....real close
I swore something was watching me
It may have been a ghost

On Halloween, the woods light up
With magic from within
No one dares to venture there
They'll not be seen again

Some nights when the moon is full
The noises fill the air
Of screeching, howling wild beasts
Of things covered in hair

I've only seen one bird around
The entrance to the wood
It's a single, lonely raven
And to me that isn't good

Raccoons, and skunks and squirrels
I never see them near this place
It's inhabited by demons
It's never known god's grace

The stories aren't the sort that
Make you want to see
What is in the woods that howls
I won't go in ...not me

The woods have always been there
And the stories have been too
I know the sounds scare me to death
And I'm sure, they'd scare you too

Don't venture near the woods at night
Don't go there in the day
Just leave them to their darkness
It's just best to stay away

(i want love in these woods)

while walking in
the quiet woods
        humidity causing
  blonde hair to stick
            to my neck
on wooden path
my footsteps move
and on highest railing
a squirrel beckons
      i smile */a real smile/
she stops
       as if listening for my footsteps
       then scampers forward
       a few more feet
       stops...tilts her head
       eyes gleaming
       listening for me again

i think she is the squirrel queen
bidding me to follow her
to my lover
waiting in the woods
i want love in these quiet woods
in the quiet night
under the moon
oh what a night
that would be
with you
the smell of the leaves
the sound of the crickets
eyes twinkling
soft blankets
this* night
   you should whisk me away
   to a place in the woods

but, alas
the squirrel queen
scampered into the woods
and i'm sitting
at a picnic table
in filtering sunlight
sticky
transfixed
heart pounding
dreaming of
love in the woods
with you.

Nothing on me to light a fire
In this dark place
Only my instincts can save me
A shattered heart and torn soul
But I’m still holding on
There’s not much hope
But I hold faith
That one day I’ll make it free
From this place
I’ll do everything it takes
To get out of here alive
It’s not as easy as it sounds
The hardest things take time
And this is an endless war
Between a conscious mind
Of doubts and regrets
That fill an insomniacs head

All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chase me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
It gets lonely here in purgatory

Can you hear the howls,
screams and cries
Deafening to the ears
It’ll make you tremble and shake
You can’t give into fear
Or you won’t make it alive out of here
I’ve been facing down monsters one at a time
Too many at once and they’ll eat you alive
It’s not easy to decide
Which one will be next
Just hope that you don’t mess up
And end up dead
I’m locked and loaded
With guns in hand
I’m prepared as I’ll ever be
I’m gonna make it out of here eventually

All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chase me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
It gets lonely here in purgatory

The battles are from over
Still on guard, ready to defend
Every corner I turn
It gives them a new chance
To catch me off guard
And rip me apart
I’ve got a lot of scars and marks
Barely scraped through
some of my past fights
At the last moments
I was able to turn the tides
How much longer
Can I keep myself alive
I guess the future holds the secrets
Just gotta keep moving
Until I find the exit light
And break free
of this apocalyptic dream

All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chase me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
It gets lonely here in purgatory

I’m panting
Taking a deep breath
Bite wounds in my leg
Hellhounds found me out
All is lost now
Guns are out of reach
Might as well accept my fate
Just give in
Let the monsters win
Sometimes you can’t beat a sin
Unless you devote
your unconditional love to him
This was something I never did
So where I’m going is uncertain
Now it’s finally time to
Let the curtain close
Shut my eyes
This is it
I’m torn to bits

All these monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
Hellhounds chased me down
For many monsters, I have slain
But there were only more that came
It’s just the monsters and me
Stuck here in purgatory
I’ve followed winding roads
Hid in dying woods
Snuck through the marsh
Covered my scents with mud
In this land, it’s always dark
Woods with leafless trees
I died alone here in purgatory


(To be continued...)
©2019 Written By Benji James