Nancy Crossman - Dancing Naked With Trees

Solitude envelops the little cottage,
Far away from the milieu of the city,
Night has claimed the evening sky.
Birch trees sway in the brisk autumn breeze,
White bark on their naked silhouettes
Like naughty wood nymphs dancing nude,
In the dark forest where bright stars,
In the black velvet sky above
Illuminate the dance floor.
Dry leaves rustle in the night,
Applauding the graceful frolic
Of the shimmering birch trees;
A sudden gust, and poplar trees join in the dance,
Moving back and forth, keeping pace with
The sultry wind song,
One robust poplar nudges a modest pine tree,
Standing shyly among the nude dancers.
A bright moon peers from behind puffy clouds,
As the little pine tree begins to sway,
Moonlight reflecting off its elegant needles
That float to the forest floor
From the exertion of its graceful dance,
There’s a soft glow in the tiny bedroom,
Quietly crackling embers of the fireplace,
Casting intimate shadows on the wooden walls.
Warm, dry air caresses my naked body,
Trees summon me to share the magic.
In the darkened room, the window wide open,
My hips begin to sway.
I am one with the trees as we dance into the night.
The momentum builds with the quickening breeze,
Until exhausted, I reluctantly close the window.
Soon daylight will dispel the enchantment,
But I shall possess the memory,
Of dancing naked with trees,
On a cool autumn night.

© Annabel Sheila

Nancy Crossman

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