Green Love

I pursued her with conviction,

Mast-high and dipping prow.

We danced amongst summer fires,

Red-devils whirling and twirling so fast,

Light flickering in water

Strange blues and greens.

She would kiss me till her lips bled.

All under hot and burned cinder skies

Tinted copper and bloodied by such red sun.

Je t’aime toujours.

Day after day, day after day

Breathless; we could not speak

As if our youthful lungs were chalk-clogged,

Our throats cut and

Hung about each other as anchors.

We muttered words of honey-dew with bright eyes glistening

Viewing lush green plains and streams trickling.

Her hair flew wildly

Fanning my cheeks in a meadow-gale.

I could not draw my eyes from hers

So softly did we stand there that a ladybird crawled freely over our bare feet

Before spreading wing to catch a gust of wind.

Yet even as that gentle breeze did blow I was of sense forlorn.

 Sadness crept as quickly as shadow creeps

Upon our world once dusk has found its footing.

The fall of night brought chill and darkness,

A thin grey cloud spread,

Our horizon lost.

Her as subject divine no longer shined,

Youthful song had all but been banished leaving an ache

For ethereal time to stop and

repeat.

Yet it could never be contained

Even by our innocent naked souls entwined in lovers’ embrace nor

Solemn calls to the land to swallow us up

Together under rolling hills.

Many have succumbed to such fleeting summer’s sun.

We fell to the ground then and clasped each other’s knees,

Our faces hopeful but voices faltering.

Those sugared words kept us

Sleeping cradled in each other’s arms,

Another night to listen to our gentle breathing.

But morning brought those dreaded bells

Ringing load to prise us clams apart.

I looked through eyes clogged with the residue of sleep

Upon her stern eyes and furrowed brow

To see a stranger’s face.

In tearing from our makeshift bed her body was replaced

By cold vacancy to be my companion.

She stared at her busty form reflected in the river’s edge as if altered.

Changeling.

So we had stirred from our wild pleasure

And wandered home carried by such tender breeze

Back towards rooftops, cobbled streets and all such of our birthplace.

Our hands were joined until we met the metal bridge

Cold beneath our naked feet.

From that moment you

Dropped your hand to hang it limp by your side.

If love is flower-like then this was our falling petals.

Summer changed, as all summers do,

To dampened greens, burnt orange and browns of Fall.

Our apple tree, once carved with rash knife-strokes and stained with our blood,

Was bent with fruit ripened and plump,

Bearing down towards the sod.

Reddened leaves decorated its branches from which their spring blossom had strayed.

In a flash lighthearted youth had grown weary,

Leaving in its place lonely anguish laid hidden in the tall grass of meadowed fields.

Like the apple’s loose blossom

We drifted apart,

Lifted from our roots and so far,

Fleeting flowers from once entwined branches

Now sole petals just like any other

Abandoned to the earth.

Memories soiled by what could have been

Yet never was.

 

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