The Meadow

Sitting under a large tree

in an empty meadow

on the most comfortable day of the summer

when the heat is not as brutish

and you can lie in the warmth in safety.

Me and the most beautiful woman in the world

are side by side, drinking the day in

after a picnic lunch.

Both of us purr like contented kittens.

We can never remember being so happy.

Without my knowing it, my raven-haired, full-lipped

lover has a naughty smile pursed inside those lips.

I look up, wondering what she is thinking.

In a flash, she's astride me.

Kissing, nudging, nuzzling me,

thoroughly fearless,

totally free.

Her freedom is matched my surprise,

and my nervousness.

She senses it, and slows in her fervor.

She looks at me, seeing my fear.

Don't worry,  she says.

No one knows we're here.

Our love is a balloon.

No one can ever pierce it.

It reminds me of something someone very wise

told me once.

"Make love in the unknown."

I disregard my fear,

kissing those luscious lips

for all I'm worth.

I close my eyes and breathe in

the sweet air of surrender...

surrender... surrender....

I open my eyes again after what seems like a second

but what in fact was an hour.

My love is purring again, but with gusto.

She was right.

There are no bogeymen,

no judging looks.

No one has seen us

under the big shade tree

in the middle of the meadow.

No one knows that we have filled the meadow

with a love that transcends space.