Our Story

While traveling along an unfamiliar path I was caught off guard by your beauty I stopped the Jeep to get a closer look But noticed The Master was still on duty I pondered at your color and fullness Wondering why you had not yet been enjoyed But saw Him drawing near to me So quickly moved on to be totally annoyed He came after me because He saw my heart And said I could not have you as my own You belonged to another gardener Who chose to let you shine…ALONE! He said I could have any of the fruit Bagged and ready for the taking I acted uninterested and aloof But He knew….. I wanted to give that tree a good shaking I woke up from my dream and found my heart Faltering at the sight of you Oh, to have plucked and tasted your flesh To have touched your morning dew To have squeezed you to emptiness And drown in the fruit of your soul Coward, cowardly I am How could I just turn and let you go You are my Sodom and Gomorrah And I have become a Pillar of Salt You are the pleasure I can no longer look upon My wanderings have seized and I am the fault If your member offends you Pluck it out I wished to God I could gouge out my eyes I pant for your form I long to peel away your layers And sink me teeth in what my flesh denies To be blinded Would do me no good For I have seen the fulfillment of my desire Your time of plucking has passed And you remain a treasure on her tree But, I alone, hold the secret of your fire I will work the land I will put my hand to the soil And grow the passion that has been awaken I am a slave bound to work For the fruit of my labor assigned to the sloth But the oil of my heart will never be taken Written by Trudy Schrader on 02-12-11 Note: I mixed this one up a bit. I hate making poetry behave. I want to see what the message of my soul has to say. I can't do that if I stuff it in a frame and make it behave in some form. I'm a verbal processor, so once I see what is going on in heart, I can deal with the issue...and the last stanza sums it up. Sometimes intimacy isn't for the enjoyment of the Love it produces but the passion that will produce more.