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the winding of the rose and bramble

The Winding of the Wild Roses Amid the Bramble

 

“I don’t remember feeling this light

are there really moments like this?”

She wondered out loud.

“There was a story I knew, it began,” said he

“Once upon a time, in a far away land,

where the deep scent of wild rosemary

pinches the nose

as it mixes with a caller of honeysuckle

on warm summer nights;

when the stars shine brightly

the moon hangs low and heavy

with nary a cloud in the sky,

two lovers met in secret and pledged never to part again.”

“In this moment,” he continued,

“The soft, splendid puff of a burning briar wood pipe

combined with the heady intoxication of night blooming jasmine

washed over them as they silently conspired

safely tucked amidst a hedge of thick juniper bushes

uniquely suited for each other’s arms.

Content they were, to stay this way, and never part again.”

“Just as nature has her principles of cause and effect

Love has it’s own principles of contentment

This is exactly where and when time stood still for them

His pocket watch went silent

Her soft notes sounded no more

but it’s all right

because this is bliss

nirvana in a kiss

they are happy at last and forever.

 

(This is a tale of how love can triumph over all discontent and any odds.)

© Susan Morgan Bosler, September 23, 2011

All rights reserved.  Please do not reprint in any manner without the express written permission of the author.

 

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