Constantine
Michaelides .
Yet light as maidens
in
a
flower
starred -dell
They
plunged
their
gnarled
hands in
the moss-hushed
earth
And
spread
their branches
each
to
each
in
dance
As
of
a host enchanted , seeming
still
To taunt
with
strange
expectancy of life
And foil with
runic
mystery
of
trees .
Wild
beasts
Aled to
the
forest
glades , whose
peace
Seemed
as
a haven
on
a cliff-bound
coast,
Smiling
a sunlit
smile
within
the rift
Of sombre
leaf -surged
beeches ,
or
of
pines
Stern -trunked
and
straight
as
spears
of ancient work ,
Sky-piercing , grown
to
trees by
long
disuse .
And
trunks half- fallen
told
in
deathless
speech
The tale
of lightning ,
ev'n
as riven
scars
Upon
the
face
of
warriors
grim
and
old
Tell
tales
of
fierce
blows
given
in
ancient wars
.
And
,
by
their
side
shimmering
their
silken
leaves
,
The
birches
smiled
in
founts
of
laughing
light
,
Whispering
to
winds who
caught
them
in
their
arms
Then
fled
,
because
they
never would
be
wooed
,
But still
beloved
,
still
smiled
a
virgin
smile
Most
lovable
when
most unwon
;
and aspens
Pretending
grief
,
still
trembled
in
the wind
,
Slavishly
wooing
the
calm
lofty
beech
Or weeping
to
the maples
silence
-
clumped
.
The
sunshafts laughed
to
pierce
the
guarded
beech
,
Glistening
past depths
of
proudly
outstretched
oaks
Upon
the nameless
thickets
,
sons
of
trees
,
Or
bastards
choking
the
still
-
teeming
earth
,
126