My Grove

By: Codin Posted on: February 22, 2009

In the Western Ithmia, proudly here I stand,

Looking 'round I gasp, the forest is so grand!

I love to look around, for nothing here is bland.

Deep in Western Ithmia, proudly here I stand.

Deep within the elmwood, who's beauty I've implied,

Are these sacred trees, who "spread their branches wide."

Thus giving a place, for squirrels and birds to hide,

Whoever said that "that's too quaint" just took a breath and lied.

As I took a walk, and looked at all the trees,

I saw that for protection there were earth golems and bees.

Then I reached my grove, with no more than a breeze,

I thought "It's all I have for now, and that's just fine with me!"

I love this whole scene, with such great air to breathe,

The trees are all around, with green and golden leaves.

If ever I am angry, I may come here to seethe,

But the anger flows right out of me, like sand through a seive.

There are the seas and beaches, with water, sand, and foam,

There are the great cities, with churches shaped like domes,

There's many things in Sapience, where I have not yet roamed,

But nothing's like my grove, the place that I call Home.