Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dog and Goat perform the wool rite,
A deluge of silver flashing forward.
South wind where best perch to weather?
Lie me basking in your splendour!

Cast around the hill back footed,
Sky clad before spent beech leaves.
New greens are flashing here and there,
A Frost that whitens morning air.

Storms blow to cleanse Her of her dying,
Him of sins inside Spring flowers.
Dance for it is time to plant new seed,
Luperci pressed in chick ****!

Exalt in stirrings deep as marrow,
Have dandelions mark the passing.
Though limbs of Oak hold up pale plaster,
The Summer comes in Springs soon after.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
You woo me deep
into the ecstasy of your pristine chasteness...

where dry leaves of Aspen and Beech and Birch
sussurate to the music of a lazy breeze,

where Hummingbirds
**** in frenzy
nectar from the orange glees
of the flame-of-the-forest trees,

where Hawthorns
lure the breeze
to weave its vibrance
in their domes of green glory,

where shrunken streams
bask in their white pebbly flourish.

Like an enchantress,
you lure me to the depth of your
rapturous bliss!

To say farewell, my heart pains.
I leave a beat of my heart
to ramble with the roving breeze
perennially in your alluring meadows!
****, I’ve been high since,
Since I was a kid,
I get lofty and light,
With the rest of them,

Granted my high was that due to elevation
And not escapism,

The Beech is the best place to go on a summer’s day

The weather like a warm blanket begs you to stay outside,

The branches crisscross across the sky,
Saving me from any toss,
Letting me think thoughts,
Of rushing from aerie heights,

I bend with The Beech,
And its soft coarse bows,
Match the gentle Maternal caress of the sweet summer breeze,
Beckon me into natural,
Seats, grown just for me,
As I have grown to be worthy of it

The clouds
Gentle behemoths
Meander beyond boundaries,
But never lose their lackadaisical luxuriousness

They’ve informed me
Today,
Today is the day for,
A climb,

I spider up the trunk and branches,
More mother’s ladder to father’s rays,
Even at the slight height,
I feel his tender gaze,
And embrace,
Protecting me from the ludicrous idea of failing,
Falling

— The End —