A poem for a man I knew once... but no more.
And still the scent of the pine groves conjures vivid memories
Of sacred trysts beneath those same trees
Of love made on a bed of fallen leaves and soft green needles
My innocence spilled like a crimson cloak across the pure white snow
Yet I was not afraid
My heart was yours for the taking
And my body was eager for your touch
We lay there, legs locked, for an eternity and a day
And even when the distant silver sun grew dim
And we lay sated, sleeping in the shadows of the dusk,
I was not cold
My skin was damp and my body chilled
So you wrapped me in a quilt of thick down and took me in your arms
Underneath the pale moon we stood, figures pressed tightly together,
One silhouette against the night
Beneath the shelter of the pine groves.
Poetry by AngelEyes
Read 333 times
Written on 2005-06-14 at 03:25
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The Pine Groves
And still the scent of the pine groves conjures vivid memories
Of sacred trysts beneath those same trees
Of love made on a bed of fallen leaves and soft green needles
My innocence spilled like a crimson cloak across the pure white snow
Yet I was not afraid
My heart was yours for the taking
And my body was eager for your touch
We lay there, legs locked, for an eternity and a day
And even when the distant silver sun grew dim
And we lay sated, sleeping in the shadows of the dusk,
I was not cold
My skin was damp and my body chilled
So you wrapped me in a quilt of thick down and took me in your arms
Underneath the pale moon we stood, figures pressed tightly together,
One silhouette against the night
Beneath the shelter of the pine groves.
Poetry by AngelEyes
Read 333 times
Written on 2005-06-14 at 03:25
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
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