Country Words

I dreamt about the country

Its air fresh and crisp, as I drank it in

Tasting new, exciting, inviting me to stay

Wind whispered at the insistence of the day

Sun's heat dazed

Meadows met my awestruck gaze

God’s own work, urged my need to lay out

Now, not the least amazed

When you walk across my line of sight

Intent bent hard left not to do what’s right

What’s wrong with feeling really like I like

Blanket set soft on grass greener than my nerve,

Country comes with reservation but really I deserve

This, it’s a dream after all, after all those days

And nights finding me alone

Let’s go lay me down to know what the birds do

And the bees too, the wind fresh on wings

Sweeping graceful over bare and hungry skin

He makes a meal of me, a bee… he eats, nectar

Fresh from blooms, buds touched, teased, consumed

Soon sun sets shadows across grass, blades dance like

Cats, black, mysterious movements, soothing soft

With tracks of chills chasing the spills of lips

Locked, mouths hot, entreating tongues agreeing some

Unspoken hum of language, lovers laying languid

Land is soft beneath his knees, he breathes, sheets stir beneath my need

Somehow the dream catches hold in real life, its real right down to the bottom

Of the cups he fills, eternal optimist, opts for bliss among the fields 

Out in the open, fresh air funded, dreamy scenes abundant, fragrant

Like flowers, our enslavement to the basic aches of human nature

Taking cues from trees he’s green with greed for me, he feasts

No famines in these fields he tills my earth, in earnest yields release

Cries that echo out in amid the span of atmosphere

Keep me here, keep me near the bottom of this well of sleep

Deep in slumber underneath these sheets, wake is for the well and I am weak

With wonder, underneath this beast, we human no more, but animals in heat

We keep claws sharp, teeth hard, bared hearts, gracing nature with our art

Natural organic, sleep finds me, serene, chamomile, unreal but seen, I’m spent

I dreamt of the country something lovely likened more to lightning

Captured, rapture all across these pastures, a man with farmers hands, tillage

Taking after, chasing all across and lost inside our souls

Laughter caught in throats, choked, but still so sweet

I sleep soundly certain of the place I lay my head

But rest with hope for somewhere new, a taste of country cradled in my bed