au naturel

I dreamed you were driving my car
like nothing doing.
You got in, shrugged and drove,
no big shakes.
As we tooled around, I got to wondering
what else you haven’t told me,
what other skills you might possess
and have withheld.
Maybe you’re an incurable epicure,
enjoyer and preparer
of sensuous food and libation,
wandering delightedly
silent on your moccasins
through vast rooted woods,
picnic basket swinging,
searching for the perfect spot
to wine and dine your perfect dish
before fervent lovemaking
au naturel
under an impassioned cinnamon elm.
Maybe you’d like nothing better
than to hike those woods
all the damn day long,
so long as the path ended
on a stretch of unobstructed beach
prime for stripping and skinny-dipping,
lolling on the sand
conversing with pipers and plovers,
thinking about how this perfect beach
could only be made more perfect
by the appearance of a shower
at the end of this rambling boardwalk.
Maybe there really is an open-air shower
at the end of the boardwalk,
and as you duck under,
allowing the cold water to rinse
down your body
in directed rivulets
like a ritual,
you realize that there’s something
you never told me
so you pull your perfect dish closer
wrap around me in this rain,
whispering in my ear
words I always wanted to hear.

Kerry asked the Real Toads to try Worldbuilding, or opening a small window on an imaginary world of our own original design, through words. I am so firmly entrenched in Middle Earth these days that I have no idea what I was doing here. But still, this was fun to write.