The World Is Hers to Keep
She hides among the trees
In her stories,
Especially in the autumn sun
When the air is cool and crisp
And the leaves crunch at her feet.
she laughs along the river bend
where waters run swift and long
whirl pooling among the winding bank
and skipping upon the stepping stones
and dances to the other side.
she sighs when the clouds appear
her shadow has no home
she chases the bluebirds along
and sings her favorite song.
She cries when the butterflies
Disappear in the waves of grass
The stand so tall in the gentle breeze
Sending whippoorwills to their nests.
She lies among the rolling hills
And rocks herself to sleep
Old man winter comes on tippy toes
The world is hers to keep.