Kings

In the forest dotted amongst the plentiful growth of soft black ash

Are the oak trees hard and strong.

They bound together at the entrance opening up my path

And then stand sentinel to guide me home

When the path comes to an end.

Their arms reach wide guiding

Through the rising sun,

Or moonlight evening sky.

Onward they say when the path has just begun,

And homeward when feet grow tired and weary.

They always stand the tallest,

Proud and straight

Determined to be the first each day to reach out for the sun

Amongst the ash they stand few and far between

Kings amongst their men.

Prompted Challenge

We are learning to make fire

With a tender look and a light caress

A whispered word of love professed

A gentle touch followed by smallest taste

Hand in hand with fingers laced

Warmth spreads through the night

A spark catches in a hint of light

With heat as strong as the sun

Two turn to flame as if were one

creativewritingprompts.com. #261-Create a story or poem inspired by the line from a Margaret Atwood Poem: “We are learning to make fire”