Beneath umbrageous canopies
the contiguity of growth
forms adamantine barriers
where brambles arc in underwood.
There lost in damp obscurity
and muffled by the quaggy moss,
a stolid land with sounds unheard
in supernatural silences.
And in the grey of leaden dawn
the chilling tones of slate blue skies
reflect in drops of cold wet dew;
in lands where no men tread.