UNDER THE TREES

Lay he upon her in silent gaze,
Upon her thighs his spine did graze,
With the night for a blanket,
Beneath the night's Dark
thicket.

Her leaves, such beautiful hair to him,
That sweet whisperings from
her to him,
Are all he hears, as the wind caress her hair in passing.
She understands his silence, not needed, is his speaking.

To his heart, she glows a woman's gleam,
As the moon upon them softly beam,
Beneath the trees, where a man's thoughts kiss,
The stem upon which he rests his tired throes.

Upon her he rests, and all is forgotten,
Upon her, all that is beautiful is begotten,
His hands crossed behind his head,
His legs crossed, and this is home indeed.

The stars whisper their jealousy to the clouds,
As these two seem entwined without bounds,
When into the night all silence is born,
The tree is his woman, who his thoughts, bliss adorn.