Little Green Song
of the Great God Pan

A rosy-crowned squirrel
rode out one day,
perched on the stag’s antlers,
piping away a merry tune.
All the flowers came out
from their hiding-places,
singing along
with tiny translucent
tinkling voices
and crisp harp strings.
And even the fox,
yea, the black and red fox
climbed down from its nest
in the rowan tree
to listen.

Jane Røken

If you have any comments on this poem, Jane Røken would be pleased to hear from you.