Stretching tall, they think they have the right to smell my leaves, pluck my buds, shatter me onto their chests to linger with my oil for an hour. Stretching tall, I am the foolish first to crisp in the sun’s unforgiving wake, relentless boil. Without our bubble, all blooms burn black. She detests my proximity,…
Ivy vines climb up my willow legs, wrapping, creeping, crawling, inching closer. I feel the twisting green leafy flesh embrace me as you, here at my feet. My branches bow to the sight of you. I surrender to the pleasure tickling my thighs as you grow to the sun mirrored on my face, brushing across…
National Poetry Writing Month
Keeping the world immersed in stanza.
About fantastical places and other stuff
"The silence of the night awakens my soul"
Poems, Writing Prompts, Interviews, Resources for Writers, Books, Poetry Reviews and more...
Saralyn Caine Poetry 