Timber: A Villanelle

Timbers sway, timbers sway.

My home is in the pines.

Peaceful place, peaceful place.

Molded out of human clay

Cut from umbilical vine,

Timbers sway, timbers sway.

Rock to sleep growing babe,

the breeze whispers lullabies

of a peaceful place, peaceful place.

Branch and bloom, sprout and break

eager seedlings rise

in a peaceful place, peaceful place.

Feet scamper, imaginations play,

roots sink in, limbs climb

under the timbers' sway, timbers' sway.

Lovers sit in dappled shade

and whisper sweetly of the time

they'll spend in this peaceful place, peaceful place. 

With sapling spread and detritus laid,

looking affectionately down from the sky,

the timbers sway, timbers sway. 

Soul meets felicity, body meets grave;

rest enclosed in a fallen pine.

Timbers sway, timbers sway,

 my peaceful place, peaceful place.