She needs to live in the mist.
An evergreen forest,
emeralds sparkling on long, thick, brown fingers.
She needs to live in the mist,
where diamond dew drops kiss the soft grass,
and golden shards light her path.
She needs to live in the mist,
the quiet broken only by her cries of pain and passion,
and soft murmurings of love.
She needs to live in the mist,
the cool hands of the moist air,
soothing her fevered, craving soul.
She needs to live in the mist,
where riding slowly around the trees,
with every step of her precious mare,
she is reminded of His hot, sparking hand.
She needs to live in the mist.
amongst the precious creatures,
the deer and the butterflies,
in a small, medieval castle,
with her Romantic, Dominant Prince.
Such is the stuff of her dreams.
(Photo courtesy of Photobucket)
www.MaggieCarpenter.com
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