The rains have come, at long last … the only beings which may stop time for me since the tree herder departed these matron-less woods … their cleansing tie dyes the mourning frost awakening the clover and naked ladies to blossom once more … I whisper only cherry seedlings.

The droplets must make a due as tears upon my apples cheeks … for the Lord of Fulgurites turned me to a dimpled sand dame moons ago … said sorrows loosing their path in the depths of “I love you, not” petal’s rotten refuse … still I ache for tenderness of his incapability.

So, let the mosses drink and feed well the ground ivy … fill the wanting pond, wash dust from emerging Summer’s hope … soak shall my seeking belly brood … the land will well recall my fair face and limbs of lacy longing … reborn I shall become in such sweetest glomming.

© 2020 CDD All Rights Reserved

One thought on “

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.