with spindles bosky and silhouette
we perforate the sky, such brittle regret
yet once we stood crookedly proud
resplendent with leaf
so elegantly bowed
.
do you recall when our roots first touched?
you shivered
sending squirrel from covert lair
wooden glances; your arborous armour
barked “beware”
yet I advanced with patient seasons at my side
supporting nest of solitary wren
a foliage crested bride
how treasured the luscious mango
full lips seek only the sweetest flesh
in strands of sun drenched gold
pull from stone; slip and hold
eyes laugh, I behold
the succulence of you
in your scented,ripened lair
but ...shall you share?
.
juice runs down the chin
glance invites a nectarous sin
papaya proclaims
it’s time to begin
.
tauntingly, we hesitate
transfixed as
fruit flies congregate
their syrup souls to immolate
we hear what we we choose to hear
staccato of ponderous piccolo
amidst the woodwind flurry
or tense tympanic tantrum
to harmonize uneasy worry
.
we feel what we want to feel
clutch at a single stem
to let the thorns bury deep
why not instead the petals
velvet soft in palm to keep?
.
we dream what we want to dream
that even the barren meadow
basks full
so full of sunshine

I am the "little armored one", moving gently through life. Hoping to safeguard my sensitivities with layers of words and the expression of thought. Shielding my mirror neurons at times, or tasting music and spinning till I'm dizzy. Every moment here is a gift.