Posted on April 30, 2010 - by Rasham

ESSEX

There were four maidens in a pond with a master gent, they flirted gently with the tide so still, smoothing the surface with gracious movements of exposed flesh; he revealed nothing but his strength as he soaked. His erection whispered his age and the lines tracing his facial frown demanded that the girls protect the bond of weakness in the beauty of silence, the curve of his bushy brow held each of them as his own and the light of the moon was kind enough to validate this mystical commune while it sailed upon the water.

As by the discipline of nature they trailed him from the wooden round’s edge and into the deep, where trees watched and winked falling leaves from weeping heights. One perched upon the spine of a stone, another balanced beside the fur of a tailored stump, another traced constellations with her fingertips above the medium of heat rising, and the last of the maidens fed the gent her softness with a smile, her heart with a kiss, her life with the look of fear in her eyes.