The Field

The moon watched our pale bodies entwine
Like ghostly apparitions of the Georgia Vine.
Soft kisses spent and left yearning for more
A burning inside like Hell’s drought-washed shore.
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The cool grass melted and the dew slipped away
As the crickets and locust symphonicly play.
Twisting like snakes, the river’s current draws in
To touch the velvet land and embrace our skin.
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The stars glisten as we count each and every one
Wishing to lay here forever yet not see the sun.
The heat of the embrace and the coolness of the air
Meshed until one incredible feeling in the bodies that we wear.
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Wake me not from this nocturnal slumber
For the depth of the kiss, I may not remember.
I’ll sleep peacefully in this meadow field
Laughing at inhibitions we refused to yield
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©January 24, 2002 Lori S. Maynard
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Beautiful poem with natural rhyme and easy flow through great descriptions ~ Jim