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.