Our Cabin In The Bush

Oh give me Zeus the power to appease, a tree has grown and sprung from deep within, it is not shade but simple pleasure it pursues it points its leafy crown at her, it wants to spin, and like a rocket it would penetrate with ease. There is a cabin in her forest painted pink its logs are covered with a dozen types of dews, safe home for spiders and sweet nectar, there to drink and heady vapours for arousal of bold dreams. I shall sit silently and touch the curly moss it is not thoughts and not analysis I seek, in all my travels I have bathed in many streams and found each water to reflect a common gloss no current ever led upstream to reach a peak, but it is mountaintops I treasure, for the view devoid of trees they reign, majestic and as twins wild storms bring rain yet my own tongue prefers fresh dew. There is confusion, Mother Nature, slave of time may interfere with squirting demons without fins until my soul absconds, I'll taste this single lime it's born of passionfruit and roses, kissed by dew. Succumbed to slumber, she invited me inside I tossed my locks and swam upstream into the cave wet walls were narrow, in the gorge there was no guide. The sound of silence, reminiscent of a grave, where I had left the silly years and moved ahead I travelled on to reach the tunnel's distant end when little angels pulled me to a just-made bed. Come close my prince she whispered, take my hand and then she opened and released a teasing tongue, lie beside me, if you do not want to stand and then she sang as no one ever could have sung. She took the tree that had evolved from within me and squeezed it firmly thus extracting precious seeds, 'we'll plant them soon as far as any eye can see', We never left the little cabin in the weeds.