Be gone, Sly Slitherer!

Nearly under my foot, I see it,

Stopped in my tracks with a startle,

A scaly, creepy, ground-crawler.

Are you poisonous? Would you wish me harm?

Your neck curled round strike-like,

With your words of woe and waste,

Commanding my attention with alarm.

While fretting about this tiny critter,

The wind begins to course all around.

I look up and see majestically tall

Sycamores and Oak trees wafting in the breeze

I do not for one second fear they may fall on me

Because they are rooted.

I cannot see the wind that blows thru their branches

But feel the power on my sky-lifted face.

I turn around 360º, the whole forest swaying

As far as I can see in every direction

With a undeniable felt-force

And I do not fear the snake.

The itty-bitty creature slithers away, looking for a place to hide.