A Dryad's Tale
One day while passing by a tree, I heard a sigh.
It seemed the oak could speak; I felt my knees go weak,
for like a siren’s song, his whisper made me long
to stop and lay me down upon his shaded ground.
Because the day was hot, I lingered at that spot.
The oak got in my mind because I felt inclined
to slip out of my dress, and yes, I must confess
it was as if that tree had cast a spell on me!
With words of poetry, he started wooing me.
His leaves then brushed my skin. I trembled deep within.
His branches were so lush, I hoped I would not blush
to think each sturdy limb might draw me up to him.
I don’t know how or why, but under summer’s sky
I disappeared into his essence and I knew
the tree had captured me. His wood nymph I would be,
for he and I were one that day beneath the sun.
As if immortal, now I live beneath his bough;
at times I disappear within him, but no fear
lives in me any more because the forest floor
I roam now with great joy; the woodland is my home!
Beneath the firmament, lost in my oak tree’s scent,
I feel completely free, his beauty all I see.
A young maid passes by; perhaps she hears us sigh
and thinks it but the breeze now passing through the trees.
But no, it is but I, beneath the summer sky
locked in my tree’s embrace, and with my new found grace,
I look at her and see the girl I used to be,
and my reality is this sweet fantasy
For Deborah Guenther Beachboard's Fantasy Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
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