The Hiding Place

The Hiding Place short poem

Photo by catburston

Deep into the night, I can hear the hiding place calling.
Its canopy soaring high into the clouds,
And its green carpet spreads from horizon to horizon.
It is where many mysteries hide.
It allows a child’s imagination to create fantastic worlds,
Or lovers to meet in the secrecy of the night.
It allows the hermit to seek his desired loneliness,
Or those who seek refuge to hide from their enemies.
The hiding place is full of calm and serenity.
As I sneak there, the ground becomes softer,
The wind begins to call out my name.
Before long, I stand at its oaken entrance.
Adventures await in the hiding place.
Secrets flourish there, as well.
I wish for the hiding place to become my home.

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Kathryn Sain

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I've been writing poetry ever since middle school, but I've never really thought about releasing my work to the public until coming to college. Currently, I am studying music as my major and English as my minor.
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