We walk through valleys fertile hillside
through the evocative sweet clover fields
to offer our bodies upon meadow grasses
painted with the presence of sensual intimacy...

Union plays fiddles as mallards call to fro-
pinnacle summits unveil the intricacies of moments embraced
everlasting as sacred stones can throw we skip with stillness
along the endless bounty of shore lines caress
where sounding cricks and streams flow to build wisdoms
underneath time's wooden bridges of yesteryear...

Those hidden minnows and tadpoles slowly grow
into tales of the seasons fishing for omniscient clues
where we climb the highest tree with fearless pursuits
only to find the imperial heavens outstretching more limbs
into infinity and beyond descried by the empyrean sky-ways
we walk through valleys fertile hillside...

(Written: June 27th, 2010 10:31 a/m)
© Poetess Victoria L. McColley