A poem by Julia R. DeStefano
Leaves on a Stream
Oh brave, fierce warrior -
the curtains flutter out
in the Dark Ages of my room.
You make me wild.
Once they believed in Camelot.
The legend of King Arthur.
Enchantresses who taught courtly love.
For handsome rewards in return.
Pleasure beyond one’s wildest dreams.
And I can believe it, too,
as I move about.
Sensual and fluid as a jellyfish
in my inner enchantress.
My soft and open vulnerable heart
like an orange tabby kitten
purring its gentle beat.
A song within my supple breast.
I am the bearer of life.
A magnetic force.
Awaiting the king to arise in some corner
of my royal bedroom.
Aching to receive his advances.
To feel his mouth touch mine.
Meet my natural elixir.
Make me a leaf on a river.
If text messages had existed in the Middle Ages,
what would the enchantress have texted
her Knight of the Round Table?
Some euphemism about the Holy Grail
as a loving cup, I’m sure.
Inching her fingertips up a bare thigh
to the thought of the Excalibur.
Curiously waiting for a reply.
She knows she is the original central character.
The driving force of the plot.
Because the real mystery of a woman
is revealed when she opens up.
The multi-faceted goddess coming to life
in front of her man.
The sum of both their dreams,
leaves on a stream.
© Julia R. DeStefano