Last night I slow-danced with an ash tree—
the roughness of his arms stroking my bare skin
and leafy kisses covering my breasts.
With branches strong he bore me high above the stars
where rainbows melted into gold.
I fell asleep, but wakened to the sound of angel lyres,
drank, without fear, the nectar of the gods
till satisfied they rained me back to earth.
I stretched on dewy grass, delighted in earth’s loamy scent,
then spent my days in dreams of a last dance.
Anthony Desmond is inviting to take a psychedelic trip today. I’ll leave it to you figure out how to do that–I needed to use my imagination…not going there at my age. :0) Join us for this fun prompt Tuesday 12:00 EDT over at dVerse.