Silky and smooth,

Her skin is carved from alabaster,

Very soft to the touch.

As they dance he is very much aware

Of her gown clinging to every inch.

The pressure of his hands guides her,

Taking her on a journey across the universe.

She responds to his touch,

Gliding and sailing over the marble floor,

Becoming more and more

A part of him.

Slight dips and spins become movements of love,

Her heated body melting into his.

She wears nothing between the outer fabric and her skin,

And he struggles to keep focused.

A few quick steps and he lifts her into the air,

Triumphantly, aware of eyes watching admiringly.

He lowers her, and she touches ground gracefully.

She whispers into his ear and they disappear into the night,

Dashing the hopes of those who were watching.

But at the same time encouraging them to dream,

To dream and love and create their own fantasy.


June 15, 2017



The Mighty Oak and the Quaking Aspen

Quaking Aspens Populus tremuloides, Little Cot...
Image via Wikipedia

Two towering trees, their branches interlaced,

Lovingly caressed as the wind continually paced,

The wind carried their whispers to and fro,

They were rooted while the wind could go,

The two had been together since long ago,

When the young oak noticed the aspen starting to grow,

He being more gnarled and taller, was gruff,

She being slimmer and delicate, was still tough,

Despite wooden hearts, they developed rapport,

And soon their feelings progressed even more,

They were happy their memories were shared,

To each other their hopes and dreams were bared,

He loved the way her leaves fluttered in the breeze,

She loved his strength and the way he could squeeze,

Through the years they saw a progression of change,

With a variety of people, mean, good, and strange,

The Indians came and respected the land,

They honored the trees and let them stand,

They could picture their ancestors peering out,

Hunting the forest and walking about,

Then a newer group arrived one day,

Who cut down and burned away,

Most of the great forests and trees,

Creating farmlands as far as they could see,

Leaving only a few trees in small groves,

And even those were good for stoves,

These two trees, once fresh and young,

Watched helplessly as the axes rung,

 They were left because they were so mismatched,

They were glad since they were so attached,

Now they stood guard at this secluded spot,

Sentinels against the sky, whether cold or hot,

Visitors were usually welcomed with open arms,

The trees had years to develop their charms,

Urging some of their guests to rest and dally,

To observe nature and let their strength rally,

Spend the night out under the stars,

Singing campfire songs and playing guitars,

On their way home those same guests would stop,

Visit awhile and their stories they’d swap,

Those guests wanted to know the history of the trees,

Would there be answers if they said please?

How long had these trees been there?

Had the trees witnessed enough to compare?

There were other visitors though,

Who thought the forest was just so-so,

They were rude and eager to make their mark,

Carving their names into the bark,

Breaking off all the lower limbs,

Just being destructive at a whim,

 Littering the area with all kinds of trash,

Eggs in nests they would always smash,

Ruining in a day what had taken so long to create,

Beauty of any kind they would desecrate,

The trees moaned and groaned in protest,

Wondering how to get rid of these awful pests,

The hostile visitors said it was but the wind,

Ordering the old trees to be silent again,

Havoc and mayhem ruled the day,

As the unruly visitors had their way,

The oak and the aspen were carved and scorched,

And both came close to being torched,

When the group left, the trees breathed in relief,

Hoping they’d never return to give them grief,

That group was gone but more would take their place,

It was usually that way with the human race,

But they trees withstood the onslaught with aplomb,

Always dignified, peaceful, and calm,

The valley eventually became a national preserve,

And both trees volunteered to serve,

For their heartwood was still strong,

Retirement for them was simply wrong,

A few years later a mighty storm struck,

Their roots held desperately, but not their luck,

Both trees crashed heavily to the ground,

People from everywhere, miles around,

Came to see the giants as they lay,

For there was more than two trees on display,

There was something unusual, something strange,

The way the trees had fallen out of range,

Directly into the wind they had spun,

Away from people, no harm was done,

They had crushed no one, no child or mother,

They had fallen instead into the arms of each other,

Around each trunk, seedlings appeared overnight,

Smiling and greeting everyone in sight,

Some seedlings were transported to faraway places,

It is said that people who see them have happy faces,

The oak and the aspen still live in legend and tales,

 Showing kindness, compassion, and a love that prevails,

The new trees will bring magic and couples will discover,

The traits of the giants in the hearts of their lovers.

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