The Meadow

I met you in a dream we tumbled
trees high around us your hair
in braids of meadow grass tied
with wildflowers and laughter.

I cried dew drops
on each blade until the sun
rose you rose you smelled of roses.
We whispered as fire rode the sky

all I saw was upward my heart strained
my tears churned into butter
your hands on me without shame
my body shivering under the heat

of that longed for connection I woke
to my own voice shouting
please touch me
I’m ready I’m wide
open.

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3 Discussion to this post

  1. […] The Meadow is something new for me and my writing process. Again, it was written for someone else. I think it has a different sort of feeling than my other pieces. I have a series of earth-love poems in my drafts waiting to see the light of day, but they are a bit . . . um . . . outside my comfort zone. This was the most risky piece I feel comfortable sharing right now. […]

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