Rising through the air with the dawn in the Oregon Mountains.
The pine tree terraced hills veiled by fog like a coy exotic dancer.
The sun, her lover, piercing one veil after another, first with warmth--then with heat.
Till at last as we descend through the veils to the forest floor wherein she is revealed, shiny and rough as a rocky river.
The cold air grabs you like a rough lover leaving you delighted and breathless all at the same time.
Inside, we are skin on skin,
as warm as toast.
Artfully,
for such things as tongues will do,
now favoring an ice cream cone or a well turned phrase in need of a tongue lashing.
Love sought and given freely like milk.
Deeply drained,
for it was good unto the last drop.
She: drinking deep of love's nectar
as bees to a flower
or a fawn at a pool.
like flowers: sweetly scented
like flowers: petaled, elegant beauty
like flowers: rising from the rich earth to spread a riot of color and beauty
from here to eternity.
hair as soft as down, skin as soft as silk, and as she looks up and smiles, her face like a beautiful blossom
like a flower.
