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.
