The Deer <br />I <br />The heavy scent of pine, oak, birch and hyssop, <br />Spins like secret sacred garlands within the breeze; <br />It twists high and then low, among the boughs of trees <br />that stand on the damp and musky eternal bridal road, <br />That leads to the town of Cassis under a celeste sky. <br />Its here: with a new pondering of delicate deliberation, <br />I see her deftly pad through twilight s last embrace. <br />Her feet -penetrating- the rich, dark, deep-damp soil, <br />That is full of the heavy scent of a rising re-birth; <br />where even time is held in her shy and rising girth. <br /> <br />II <br />Her slight and slender, mottled undulating flank, <br />Slowly begins to reflect and refract amid a golden hue; <br />As the straw coloured sun encroaches from beyond. <br />The growing, glowing, summer shaded trees, are naught <br />For they interfere with her delicate point of view <br />As its in their shade I see her panting breath is caught. <br />There is a pause for breath- - as she so shyly stares <br />Then she she’s off! lost in this forest of a dream. <br />Now an echo of a pause of a losing thought. <br />Her ghost limbs thrust down. Her muscles stretch. <br />She graces the air with such ease and pure desire. <br />To be lost perhaps forever and evermore <br />Amid the wild mans eyes and his nougat thoughts. <br /> <br />(c) 2010 readrafted 2014<br /><br />Andrew David Dalby<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-deer-5/
