The woods are lovely, dark and deep.*
I wonder what secrets they keep.
The moon paints the leaves with a blood-red stain.
If I go in there, will I come out again?
Do thirsty vampires await?
Are the seductive voices I hear bait?
A ravishing woman appears from out of the air.
A second ago, there was no one there.
Her slender fingers with crimson tips beckon me.
She leans casually in a flowing negligee against a tree.
I have never witnessed such radiance before.
Her flaming red hair and porcelain skin are features to adore.
My senses awaken with overpowering lust.
She tells me her name, Melinda, and asks for my trust.
Can I believe my eyes or Melinda herself?
She stares at me confidently, embodying love itself.
What lies beneath such perfection?
To Melinda, am I just a confection?
My mind tells me these images are wisps of smoke.
In my heart the hellish fires of desire are stoked.
My right foot steps forward all on its own.
In the windswept fields of my soul, the seeds of madness are sown.
SCARLET AMBROSIA–BLOOD IS THE NECTAR OF LIFE
*Excerpt from the Robert Frost poem “Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Evening.”
One reply on “In The Windswept Fields Of My Soul”
Nice poetic expression – a bit creepy.
Bobby Frost’s poem had an entirely different feel. “Whose woods these are I think I know….. and miles to go before I sleep.”
Now I’m sure I don’t know…. and not sure if I’ll ever be able to sleep comfortably again.
Great picture to open and accompany.
Strange, the drawer of fear, mystery, and spookiness.