My vocabulary is a forest,
 
Thick and dense
Home to organised systems of beauty
The green leaves of letters
Lining the great oak
Slows my     soul to a     tranquil rest
 
The mental walk down the orchard of adjectives takes me to a familiar tune
The ample diversity of fascinating fauna there
From the majestic yellow crested cockatoo to the fast quick thinking hare
Sings a humble smoothing,
The golden familiar wattle that line the forest
Sing a symphony as colourful sweet as pure caramel
The hymn of harmony flies at full force
 
But a creature comes who threatens the forest
One who thinks for no one but himself
The words are not organised
Not one is in place
He cuts the words one by one
And the words turn a sorrowful grey
 
The forest of green words which I once knew has gone away.