A Little Shepherdess
Blue faded.
The same horizon, the same clouds
changed by brushes from an impressionist painter.
The lavender sky blushes
and the crest of the cheery trees beams
as the wind hums, enticing belated bumblebees.
Twigs rattle waking a little shepherdess bellow.
Amber eyes browse the dusky glen.
She whistles, summoning her hound
and ties her undulating hair with a butterfly.
She engenders a ballroom below the tree’s canopy.
and abandons her boot, her cap, her apparel.
A blushful wind sews a new dress with dead leaves.
She tiptoes on the top of the grass blades
and two small primroses flourish on her face
as the tender breeze takes a rhyme from her lips.
The tangling grass tickles her feet
and a perishing sunray slips between the leaves
to reach her cheeks.
She hoovers free and twirls making herself a target
for distracted bowmen…
.. her dog barks and she eyes down
to a basket with four remaining heart-shaped berries.
Night arrives and starlight precipitates.
The little shepherdess greets the drops of rain with a spin.
Listen, listen to the lingering melody.
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