The Woodcarvers Reward

He walked along the beach a man forlorn Forgotten were his dreams, his heart was torn The gentle waves spoke of the years gone by And drew salt water down from saddened eye He saw some driftwood lying on the shore It sparked his interest and he longed for more He touched it gently, to his great delight Sandalwood he’d found: passion to ignite The need to carve once more came to his mind A joy he’d lost and could no longer find He took it home, that battered piece of wood With hopes to turn it into something good A mane of hair took shape beneath his hands Flowing waves of curly wooden strands Round shoulders of the woman of his dreams And breasts and waist of beauty carved supreme Gracefully her form began to take on shape When he was done he stood there mouth agape She was a goddess made of his desire A love for her consumed him like a fire At night he wished upon a falling star She’d come to life and chase his sorrows far He looked at her before he fell asleep And smiled for he’d forgotten how to weep He felt a stirring there beside his bed A presence seemed to hover near his head He looked upon his statue now in flesh Her body like a breeze was young and fresh She pressed her lips so gently over his “I need to tell you, love, listen to this I was discarded, battered, wounded sore I chose to be a part of life no more You saw in me my hidden beauty fine Your wish has reached the heart of the Divine I stand before you, answer to your prayer Sent to give you love and tend’rest care.” She kissed his lips, and veiled him in her hair His tears she wiped, this answer to his prayer With him she lay, her breast his pillow sweet The richest fare of sandalwood, his treat What else transpires is curtained from our sight Burning sandalwood…..scents the glowing night Eileen Manassian Ghali