Blogs by Meva Onyurt
3/7/2004 1:43:25 AM
There was a boy on that tree
whom life has failed to see.
His name is carved on the oaks,
His eyes with olive-green cloaked,
Unable to move and to get free of leaves,
Stands still and watches the morn give way to eve.
On a distant hill I sit with a cup of tea
or with a searching mind and a longing heart.
There might be my name
Engraved on that old tree.
Because I know the Oak, the pond nearby;
I remember counting, -once in a childish ecstasy-
The sparkles dancing on its crystal waters.
In the night when cold surrounded us,
his deep stem sheltered my body,
Touching with tender brown hands,
I felt his breath, his flow over me.
A gentle voice whispered my name
‘You my little fairy, now listen to me!
Let the shimmering night never end,
Count them until you die and the End
Will take you to the man inside me
who loves without a gain or glory
your life is rooted in his body
fOrEvEr fOuR sEaSoN fOr yOu and fOr lOvE’
the old oak tree
©2004 Meva A. Akgiray
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More Blogs by Meva Onyurt
Treeloved - Sunday, March 07, 2004
The Story Crossed A Black Hole - Sunday, October 19, 2003
My lady of the moon... - Saturday, July 12, 2003
Comet-Man - Wednesday, July 09, 2003