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.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

11... Starward, if you're reading, the lines about her feet are 100% inspired by you. 

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Starward's picture

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.

Enjoy effulgent days, and exquisite nights,

unto the exultations of Heaven.