Mrs. Cynosure - Under An Oak Tree*

The leaves of my soul crunch beneath my feet
With the many pieces of me
They all collapse without the other half

Wind telling them secrets
The flowers singing them songs
But all of them horror
Saddened lies and deceit

The sent of a green tree so sweet and desirable
Just stands behind me to protect his prize
A rose gently swaying in the breeze
If carefully picked she might know how to please

Then yet again like a man of waves and fire
A man of stone and beard
Once said all women are like snakes
Not all snakes are venomous
But all snakes are deadly
I am different
And this he sees
Very easy to please
All I want is to laugh
To smile and to give
This he does

The wind in my hair is so great
But I know the evilness it holds
The secrets it tells
Dares not to share them with me
Blowing the pages in my journal around
Like a teen to its mother


The fresh due tickling my finger tips
As if feathers trying to make me sneeze
Warming my cooled face
The reds and yellows spying into my eyes
To see what I’m dreaming about
I see as I open my eyes
I was just sleeping under the oak tree

Mrs. Cynosure

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/under-an-oak-tree/