Of White and Gold
Of White and Gold
Heady day........Soft....... buzzingly warm.
Cool, yet gentle breezes, kiss the rippling, verdant leaves of ancient Oaks and Elms.......perpetual guardians, surrounding the swaying field of gold.
Waist-high and waving, the ripened Barley likens itself to the restless, endless, lover-like motion of the distant ocean waves.
The blanketing heat of summer, envelops the fields of gold.
Ethereal........Wraith-like..........she steps forth from the shade of guardian-oaks and strolls, with slender arms outstretched......................
Hands touching, brushing, caressing the adoring whiskered heads of Barley, as she steps across the swaying field of gold.
Her aspect shimmers, in the hot noon sun. Her full-length gown of cotton-white, blazes and clings lovingly to her nymph-like shape.
She almost glides upon the field of gold.
Raven hair, tight in confused long curls, bounces to the rhythm of her steps, framing the beauty of her elfin features.
She floats, as upon air, across the field of gold.
Her winsome smile, is in answer to the feathered songs of tribute, twittering forth from tiny bursting, hearts of joy.
The songs pour down from winged admirers with adoring eyes that swoop and dive above the field of gold. ‘Watch me!!........look at me!!’ they cry.
Elfin eyes, that glow with life, swift to smile or blaze with fire, gaze out across the swaying mass of whiskered glory, that clings to her slender legs and hips, reluctant to let her pass without touching her, as she glides across the field of gold.
With looks to melt the hardest heart.
With care enough and much to spare, this maiden, crosses many thoughts of those who know her.....................and yet...........................
...........The hungry, Green-eyed Wolf, can only stare in awe from his nearby brackenly lair. He dare not stir, for fear to spoil the progress, of the glorious maid, as she steps across the field of gold.
Even at darkest-hour, he fears to tread the realm of ‘She‘. He knows he is not worthy to touch the world where she has trod. He fears that he will be soul-burned by consuming fires, stored, waiting, vengeful and hidden among the wondrous field of gold.
This glorious ‘She‘..........................This twirling maid, is known to many and loved by all.
Twirl-on sweet maid..................across the swaying, waving and adoring
field of gold...........Fear not the Wolf...........Secretly, his heart is also yours.
Brushy
Copyright © Roy Hodgkiss | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment