Coming of Age
The water rippled and folded smoothly
as it entered the first delicate slope
down to the lagoon.
The rocks, slick and ebony black,
shining in the moonlight.
Laughing can be heard,
above the bubbling sonata
echoing through a hollow log
as water dropped from
ferns and forest primeval.
Teasing, her tongue slightly brushed his
in hurried anticipation,
her soft young body changing from
that of a child, but still more
advanced than the young prince.
He had not filled out as his father hoped
and already puberty rites were late.
He hoped for the growth spurt
that would let him be called a young man.
The young prince was not concerned.
He planned to rule wisely instead
of with a heavy hand.
He entered the water above the big rock.
Going limp and floating as
a disjointed piece of hemp rope,
he loved to glide over and around
the slick rocks as the current lazily
carried him downstream.
He slowly entered the lagoon,
fireflies and moon beams
dancing on the water.
She was waiting with a smile.
They made love and
the only sounds were theirs,
falling on no one else’s ears.
Their world was perfect in that one moment
in time, and space, and pleasure.
Strange- - -he no longer felt like a child.
© Jun 1 2011 Charles Henderson
For Rambling’s Rippling Stream contest.
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