Post by goldenmyst on Jul 1, 2019 22:51:50 GMT -6
Seasons of the Lover’s Wheel
I remove my frock to bathe in a spring fed pool. But as I draw closer, I spy a woman behind the shrubbery drinking from the same pool. I approach slowly as not to a frighten her. I begin with, “Sorry to behold your nudity. Most maidens run wild as the Irish Ivy here. But you don’t seem to mind.”
She could be any woman out of a thousand. I breathe the name she went by like the murmur of a dream. But if she is another and seduces me then woe betide me for I will have banished myself to a life with a stranger. We always find each other no matter how far apart on the planet we are born. Morning wonder sighs through my heart which throbs only for her.
Soon the noon sun casts its warm rays upon her bare body. Her long curly black tresses of hair fall down around her shoulders in a luxuriant canopy. Her supple breasts and dark nipples sparkle with thousands of tiny diamonds of reflected sunlight.
As she crouches over the pool I can see the curve of her hips and thighs. Clouds pass over us casting shadows. The clouds are fringed with a lace of fiery golden light as they block the sun. When they pass, we are once more immersed in a bath of solar warmth. I watch silently as the sun makes its path across the sky. Soon the sun sinks below the rise of land. We are immersed in a sea of darkness. So far she shows no sign of recognition of me. If words were gold she would be a miser.
Venus emerges in the night sky. It is a bright white gem shining in the east. The summer night breezes are warm and brush against my skin softly. The full moon rises above us. It casts its pale yellow light on my fevered skin. I feel warmth rise from my belly through my body. It swells through my arms, legs, hips, and thighs. I sink into a blissful sleep.
The sun rises in the sky. We walk through green grass by the artesian well water. I feel the moist earth under my bare feet. I ask her, “Is your native tongue Gaelic or were you schooled in Latin by the Romans?” The only sound is birdsong. I stick my tongue out. She mimics me by pointing her tongue at me. I press my fingertip upon the tip of her tongue and repeat my question but her only response is “ahhhhh.”
If she be the one I seek, the only way to know is to share objects which only the spirit who animated her former body would recognize. So I draw a pentagram in the mud. She grabs a stick and inscribes Avril her name from olden days. I take a stick and draw the Celtic “Trinity Knot.” Her eyes open and her soul light shines through them. Then she puts her stick down and tears form in her eyes. I don’t know whether she is crying for love or despair. My heart sinks.
I say, “I took liberties by gazing upon your bare body. I presumed the women here cared not a whit if men saw them naked as a shamrock in the forest. This may be the cause of your silence. You have my apologies.”
I take her hand and hold her finger in the mud and with it, I etch ‘Caed’ in the muddy soil. She smiles like the risen sun. She repeats, “Caed, Caed, Caed.” I blush and she touches my cheek.
She addresses me, “You surmised correctly that being naked in front of a strange man was the source of my quiet. But you are no longer a stranger. What moniker do you go by now?”
I reply, “Tristan is my name.”
She replies, “My love, don’t be embarrassed if I am too forward. We have touched and much more for longer than I can remember.”
With her hand, she reaches behind me and brushes the seat of my absent trousers. She love pats and kneads me to relax my virgin modesty. Hence she leads me by the hand to a cozy bed of clover and lays me down on nature’s mattress.
And the years pass as our faces grow wrinkled. Simple tasks fill the hours. We walk the memorized paths from seashore to our home in the hills. My life as a fisherman brings us sustenance and income. Though Avril has fished from the beach she desires to go out on a boat with me to experience for her own self offshore fishing.
So we take to the ocean in our currach with our crew rowing us so far out that a storm capsizes us into a grave which has no name. But my love and I find ourselves sailing a heavenly sea until we are welcomed ashore by those who went before us. There, the fish swim freely as I become a farmer
whose crops feed us in this new earth. One night my wife hears a knock on the door. We are told our lease on this land has expired and we must move on. There is no need to bundle our woolens as we lock up our home and part ways with the hope that the life we made together will find a new lease.
I remove my frock to bathe in a spring fed pool. But as I draw closer, I spy a woman behind the shrubbery drinking from the same pool. I approach slowly as not to a frighten her. I begin with, “Sorry to behold your nudity. Most maidens run wild as the Irish Ivy here. But you don’t seem to mind.”
She could be any woman out of a thousand. I breathe the name she went by like the murmur of a dream. But if she is another and seduces me then woe betide me for I will have banished myself to a life with a stranger. We always find each other no matter how far apart on the planet we are born. Morning wonder sighs through my heart which throbs only for her.
Soon the noon sun casts its warm rays upon her bare body. Her long curly black tresses of hair fall down around her shoulders in a luxuriant canopy. Her supple breasts and dark nipples sparkle with thousands of tiny diamonds of reflected sunlight.
As she crouches over the pool I can see the curve of her hips and thighs. Clouds pass over us casting shadows. The clouds are fringed with a lace of fiery golden light as they block the sun. When they pass, we are once more immersed in a bath of solar warmth. I watch silently as the sun makes its path across the sky. Soon the sun sinks below the rise of land. We are immersed in a sea of darkness. So far she shows no sign of recognition of me. If words were gold she would be a miser.
Venus emerges in the night sky. It is a bright white gem shining in the east. The summer night breezes are warm and brush against my skin softly. The full moon rises above us. It casts its pale yellow light on my fevered skin. I feel warmth rise from my belly through my body. It swells through my arms, legs, hips, and thighs. I sink into a blissful sleep.
The sun rises in the sky. We walk through green grass by the artesian well water. I feel the moist earth under my bare feet. I ask her, “Is your native tongue Gaelic or were you schooled in Latin by the Romans?” The only sound is birdsong. I stick my tongue out. She mimics me by pointing her tongue at me. I press my fingertip upon the tip of her tongue and repeat my question but her only response is “ahhhhh.”
If she be the one I seek, the only way to know is to share objects which only the spirit who animated her former body would recognize. So I draw a pentagram in the mud. She grabs a stick and inscribes Avril her name from olden days. I take a stick and draw the Celtic “Trinity Knot.” Her eyes open and her soul light shines through them. Then she puts her stick down and tears form in her eyes. I don’t know whether she is crying for love or despair. My heart sinks.
I say, “I took liberties by gazing upon your bare body. I presumed the women here cared not a whit if men saw them naked as a shamrock in the forest. This may be the cause of your silence. You have my apologies.”
I take her hand and hold her finger in the mud and with it, I etch ‘Caed’ in the muddy soil. She smiles like the risen sun. She repeats, “Caed, Caed, Caed.” I blush and she touches my cheek.
She addresses me, “You surmised correctly that being naked in front of a strange man was the source of my quiet. But you are no longer a stranger. What moniker do you go by now?”
I reply, “Tristan is my name.”
She replies, “My love, don’t be embarrassed if I am too forward. We have touched and much more for longer than I can remember.”
With her hand, she reaches behind me and brushes the seat of my absent trousers. She love pats and kneads me to relax my virgin modesty. Hence she leads me by the hand to a cozy bed of clover and lays me down on nature’s mattress.
And the years pass as our faces grow wrinkled. Simple tasks fill the hours. We walk the memorized paths from seashore to our home in the hills. My life as a fisherman brings us sustenance and income. Though Avril has fished from the beach she desires to go out on a boat with me to experience for her own self offshore fishing.
So we take to the ocean in our currach with our crew rowing us so far out that a storm capsizes us into a grave which has no name. But my love and I find ourselves sailing a heavenly sea until we are welcomed ashore by those who went before us. There, the fish swim freely as I become a farmer
whose crops feed us in this new earth. One night my wife hears a knock on the door. We are told our lease on this land has expired and we must move on. There is no need to bundle our woolens as we lock up our home and part ways with the hope that the life we made together will find a new lease.
