In a forest, green and cool

In a forest, green and cool

I buried our love deep in the dark earth.

Our story, our words, our love affair

would grow roots there among the giants of sycamore and elm.

And our young hearts would endure

though we were but 15 and had fickle hearts.

In a forest, green and cool.

The Kiss

The warm touch of his hand on her cheek.

Her drowsy anticipation of his lips softly brushing hers.

The exquisite pain of longing; waiting for him to navigate

the dusky, gilded river between them.

He laid her on a bed of poppies;

crowned her with a wreath of violets.

The heady perfume of him washed over her

in waves of scarlet and gold.

Breathless; floating between this world and the next...then the kiss.

From the first kiss to the last...I get drunk on your lips.

L.M. Betit

Untitled poems....

Rosewater tears streaked down her apple blossom cheeks. 

She stood alone at the edge of the lake,

the tall grasses tickling her legs.

Far off in the distance lay her hopes and aspirations

seemingly so far out of reach.

When will her time come she wondered? 

Why did everyday bring more of a mystery?

Misery and mystery measuring the moments of her life.

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Sometimes I dream in shades of blue (green).  I dream of walking into the ocean at night and let the cold slip around my body which soothes and burns.  I dream of slipping beneath the waves and my body so quiet...so still finds peace at last.  Sometimes I dream in shades of blue (green) that will haunt me all my years.

--Laura Betit