The Village
Out in the dew beyond the tall oak,
a village of nature dwelling kind folk.
Houses of clay and some of old wood,
a beautiful tree monument where the town hall once stood.
Fireflies danced as the young deer played,
rabbits and heron found peace in the shade.
Lazy creeks flowed feeding the teeming pond,
goldfish plentiful geese and mallards fond.
Out in the sun lay a sleeping crocodile,
beside the cabin of a registered pedophile.
The gentle warm breeze carrying a faint scent of pine,
and from the distant ocean a muted taste of brine.
Darkness fell as it did each night,
the pink sky blossoming into moonlight.
The weary returned back to their cozy beds,
to ready for tomorrow and rest their tired heads.