Gary R. over at PoemofQuotes Blog started a group poem. You continue it on your own blog but let him know you added the next line.
It starts here and, as far as I can tell, the last person to play is here.
I'll play along next to keep the game going:
The forest sang of moans from years past,
while crumbling leaves of sorrow the blackbirds pecked for morsels--what luck!
Hidden among the knots and gnarls of bygone woes,
centuries of secrets stitched like a patchwork quilt.