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Perfect Pond
V--- weaves through weeping willows
and comes to a lush little meadow hill.
Gleaming heather thrashes in pure day.
She climbs to the pristine peak to find
a perfect pond sparkle its calm secrets.
She exclaims, conscious of delirium,
"Oh vivid dream, I must be hallucinating!
Is this--- this Paradise the real deal?"
She breathes deeply, places her purse
gently aside, strips her pink carigan,
lays it down to sit on and views the land.
"Plenty of time until the Sun is high...
I shall certainly stroll along the sand."
She suddenly remembers her bare feet
and grows very giddy in anticipation
for those sensual caresses she adores.
That---or let me say it
That---or let me say it better, that---is one of the finest compliments I have ever received in my entire writing experience. I am overwhelmed by the note, but even more so by the lines. Thank you, Great Poet, thank you: this is a gift of indescribable delight.
Starward