The Faerie

There is a faerie in my yard,
An impish nymph with sparkling eyes.
She holds a wand of hazel wood,
To witch the bees and butterflies.

She sits there, ‘neath the hosta leaves,
That in the breezes sway,
And if one does not pay her due,
She’ll steal one’s soul away.

Upon her toadstool, aged and grey,
My little wood sprite rests.
A sunbeam nuzzles at her back,
A green leaf strokes her breast.

She waits there, silent, til the night,
When darkness fills the skies,
For the faerie god, the satyr king,
To part her naked thighs.

To take her to the realm of joy,
Of limbs and lust entwined,
Until the lightening strikes them both,
And stardust blinds their eyes.

I sit here on the fragrant earth,
And think of one so fair.
In all the lives, in all of time,
T’was never one so rare.

She lay there on the grass with me,
Her hair a’shine and bright.
It framed a wonderous, lovely face,
That paled the sunshine’s light.

Her satin shoulders, soft and smooth,
Her breasts so full and round,
The rounded belly, cradling hips,
The glistening curls atop her mound.

Open thighs that beckoned me,
To stroke their silken skin.
Her slender lips were swelled apart.
Her wondrous scent. It drew me in,

To taste the nectar of her font,
To find the precious pearl,
That peeked from ‘neath its velvet hood,
To set her mind a’whirl.

On waves of passion, lust, and need,
She climbed the craggy hill.
Her slim, soft fingers found my hair,
And pulled me closer still.

With tiny cries and silent moans,
She fell in the abyss,
Then pulled me to her glowing face,
And graced me with a kiss.

She whispered softly in my ear,
“My need, it cannot rest.”
Then cradled me between her thighs,
Taut nipples brushed my chest.

Their dark, round beds were wrinkled,
Her breasts swelled tight and firm.
I took a nipple ‘tween my lips,
First pulled, then gave a turn.

I felt her slender fingers,
Grasping, in her rush,
To pull me to her needing nest,
So warm, so wet, so lush.

Her silken passage pulled me in,
As passion struck me blind.
Our bodies joined and were as one.
One heart. One soul. One mind.

Our dance, it was of ecstasy,
The dance of contra-motion,
Of Man and Woman, old as time,
The oldest of emotions.

The quaking of her body,
Began with tiny cries.
She wrapped her legs around my back,
Embraced me with her thighs.

I felt the surge begin to build,
Her nails raked up my hips.
She crushed her mouth into my own,
I savored her sweet lips.

The shattering came quickly,
So urgent our desire.
She arched her back, then gasped my name,
And set my loins on fire.

She moaned, then cried, then cried again,
And shuddered her release.
I spilled my seed in lunging thrusts.
Our movements slowly ceased.

She kissed me hard, then held me close,
Unwilling we should part,
Until the glow of passion spent,
Had slowed our pounding hearts.

I think about that afternoon,
A warm day, late in spring,
That day she was my faerie,
And I, her satyr king.