Ariella

17

When she blazes, she burns,
if only peeping through bright-eyed dandelions
or skipping a pin-toe prickle breeze atop the pond.
She lounges, serene in the foliage flushed emerald and plump from tender rain.
Cradled in the afterglow of love and affection, a busy April’s fawns now her own to coddle,
She beams upon the sun-nurtured fields of golden
Sprawls,
the summit season’s fair queen crowned in peach blossom pearls and swathed in sky satin.
She is the center of attention, the life of the party,
the first whisper of music, the sureness of Cupid’s bow and the line of his arrow.
With a wink and a smile they melt, they melt,
______shed one more layer
______and grow their hair long
Rediscover the wild, the bird song, the morning’s sweet dew which tickles their bare feet
smeared in mud, nature’s skin.
A return to the beginning, they stumble and howl, frolic and dance,
Bubbles of laughter echo through a night once still, broken
by the claw streaks of a growling fire desperate to preserve the day’s light.
The silk tails of smoke twirls flirt with the moon and stain clothes with the perfume of
feral freedom.
A time for touching, holding, tasting,
recognizing a lover’s sunlit eyes, iris expanding.
A time for growth, blooms deep and steady,
the same green for two months.
______And when the tilt begins, the colors unfurl,
______when Persephone exhales, ruby seeds on her tongue,
______they flock back to being
______and share one parting kiss,
______memories scattering like cool ashes to the wind.
But dandelion parachutes,
although gray and dormant,
carry hopes and wishes to lie by Summer’s side,
awaiting her reawakening.