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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #1438545
One of several odes.
Moving like mist through morning mountains
Mourning cliff sides when she’s gone
Trees of love that seem to surround her
And aspen leaves fall upon her
Like slivers of silver that grace
The hallowed ground around her

She moves like a luminous rain cloud
All dark like moments of creation
And pale white where streaks of skin
Adorn the midnight where she dwells
With delicate legs that tread the forest floor
So surely perfected, a gift of nature to man

Lay me like November rain
Across the leaves and earth
Settle me asunder, frozen and still
Like the forest’s majestic silence
So that I might wait, in patience, quietly
For a glimpse of you
My muse, enshrouded by stillness
And glowing, soft and pale
Against the winter wind
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