The Sunbather

I stroll down to the pond arm in arm with fickle June
who gives herself in laughter and takes back in sorrow,
earth, air, wind and fire all tucked neatly in her basket,
yet I seek the quintessence of her summer moments
in cups of lavender foxglove bore before me on spears.

And dipped in wild daisies to my waist,
petals stroking tender flesh in ticklish delight,
I float over a whispering sea of white petals,
their yellow eyes winking as I shed all artifice
to fall arms outstretched and glowing into the tall grass,
luxuriantly adorned in Eden's garden garments,
listening to the giggling of bright water she as runs past
on her way to catch the tree frogs singing bass and tenor.

The wind comes whistling its own tune, soft and low,
his mouth muted by early raspberries
shoved down in greedy handfuls,
watching from beyond the brambles as the sun lies on me
caressing me with warm hands and searing kisses
until the clouds, hands on their hips, pout down,
and run their mouths in rainy rumor.


© 2007 Inner Beauty