My Mother, Salome taught me
to bend, undulate and flatten in the breeze.
to shed the veils of morning mist,
We sway in unison
gentle waves that sigh and whisper
Mesmeric day dreams,
wisps of nature's magic,
we become what you want us to be;
a golden cloud , gentle maidens weaving,
or by moonlight's spill,
a quicksilver sea.
Hot winds carry seed,
the sweat of fevered brows.
travelers on the prairie
heed our siren songs,
as we beckon to them;
hush, hush,
come to us, come to us.
Some find their way home,
others are lost forever.
Yet, they'll never forget,
wild windswept waves
of a land locked sea,
the sound of siren voices in the wind,
or the hypnotic dance and gentle caress
that will leave them forever yearning
for one more kiss from the
women of the grass.
hush, hush
come to us
come to us