The magic he forced it to emit,
the wand of the forest sorcerous,
a chorus sung by birds burst forth from it 

and I became titillated as I witnessed the forest become animated
the quaint way he created,
a florist as he painted 
eight great trees elevated as knee height verbena percolated 
the delightful perspective in me he emancipated left me curiously captivated 

and I began to revere what was in front of me here, a biosphere I hold very dear
the birds,
the deer,
the herbs that where near

and although the ivy might poison me slightly the itch makes me feel lively 

I, bewitched and her blithely she appeared right beside me and we merrily strolled down through an illuminated night
following an arbitrarily lit flume that was violet and bright 

she led me into parts of the forest ordinarily brimming with fright 

the sprite 

who shimmered by fireflies with delight 
exposing me to hopeful glimmers in feelings of contrite