The Woodsman
He stands alone where the wild winds sigh, Watching the taunts of the trees; Guarding the western slope of the sky, While the time moves on in the breeze.
He speaks to the ghosts of the ancient past, Where shadows still linger near; His steadfast will has been ever steadfast, For he holds all of the light so dear.
As the wood bends low in the brightening glow, The fire brings joy to the night; He listens to all of the tales they know, With an ear that picks up their delight.
- David Campbell