Dryad

photo by Rosie Hardy

Come to the forest

Come when your heart is as full as the moon

and your desire blazes like a shooting star

Do not fear the sentries;

 they observe your entry

but ignore trespass

when intent is pure

Search out the message that I have written for you

in the trivialities of veins in the leaves

Read its significance

with your fingertips

You have always touched wood

wishing

I am waiting 

with your answer.

submitted for Poets United, Vice Versa #6

and Poetry Jam, Daydream Believers

The Forest Edge

source

I wanted to walk in the forest with you

I took your hand

We stepped to the edge where vines grew thick

and flowers smelled sweet and dangerous

like the perfume we purloined 

from your mother's dresser

As our lips touched

I swear I heard the dryads sing

and I ached to follow but

you turned away

laughing

How many times

have I returned to that day?

How many times 

have I tried to find that mossy forest entrance?

But the path is closed

In its place, a tangle of dried brambles 

and withered blooms

scentless

like a dusty bottle of evaporated perfume.

submitted for Poetry Jam, Where Is Your Forest?