Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The tree still stands Where he kissed May Mitewing that summer. Dead now or dying the Tree, but stands like a Landmark to that kiss And time and all that Followed. What had Happened to May after That summer he couldn’t Say, she went east with her Parents, her old man some Big Wheel in the business Circus of things, and she Tainted by what they did After the kiss, the hay barn **** and she panicking She’d missed a flood, but It all came well after a few Days later and he having Sweated that out in his Room, felt relief come like ********** ***** He looks At the tree now, remembering Where once green leaves were, Broken fingers and arms of Branches are. He places his Hand on the bark, senses Where her tight *** was Pressed and how the lips met And he putting his hand on Her waist, loving her young Girl tongue taste. He has no Idea where May is now or If she lives or is dead or if She remembers him and The tree and kiss or hay Barn romp, just touching The tree, feeling the rough Bark and wood, brings it All back, all memory now, Where they’d once stood.
0
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
THE KISSING TREE.
The tree still stands Where he kissed May Mitewing that summer. Dead now or dying the Tree, but stands like a Landmark to that kiss And time and all that Followed. What had Happened to May after That summer he couldn’t Say, she went east with her Parents, her old man some Big Wheel in the business Circus of things, and she Tainted by what they did After the kiss, the hay barn **** and she panicking She’d missed a flood, but It all came well after a few Days later and he having Sweated that out in his Room, felt relief come like ********** ***** He looks At the tree now, remembering Where once green leaves were, Broken fingers and arms of Branches are. He places his Hand on the bark, senses Where her tight *** was Pressed and how the lips met And he putting his hand on Her waist, loving her young Girl tongue taste. He has no Idea where May is now or If she lives or is dead or if She remembers him and The tree and kiss or hay Barn romp, just touching The tree, feeling the rough Bark and wood, brings it All back, all memory now, Where they’d once stood.
2010 POEM.
terry-collett
Written by
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem