Playful Spirit

spirit.jpg

 

Playful spirit behind an oak

laughed and flirted but never spoke.

Eyes of onyx, raven hair,

I marveled at her standing there.

.

Brilliant sunshine — could barely see.

Had my eyes played tricks on me?

I stood in reverence and awe

not sure of what I thought I saw.

.

Fluttering soft, the poplar leaves

perhaps, had caused me to believe

I’d seen someone who wasn’t there —

eyes of onyx, raven hair.

.

The nimble spirit deftly danced

from tree to tree and lightly pranced.

I didn’t know quite what to do

about this vision in my view.

.

I had no knowledge of such things.

What does one do when nature brings

such beauty, grace and winsome mold

who, I could see but could not hold?

.

I could have watched her all day long

her movements sang just like a song.

She beckoned me with backward glance

down flowered pathway of romance.

.

I had no choice, I was entranced;

induced to follow where she danced.

The woods had changed, were foreign now,

colors brighter, surreal somehow.

.

I saw some spirits on the way.

They went about their normal day.

They took no notice of my form

contrary to their spirit norm.

.

They were at home among the trees;

conversely, I felt ill at ease.

Abandoned, then just like a snare —

eyes of onyx, raven hair.

.

She drew me close and hugged me tight;

we kissed, caressed throughout the night.

Not a wisp of evanescence,

but a real woman’s presence.

.

Wood smoke, sweet-grass, musk and cedar —

I took her hand, she let me lead her.

Beneath the boughs we made our bed

while stars shone brightly overhead.

 

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