The lake; Esme(e) did love the lake.
that of her, knew not how, and
turned to see her face as we approached it wishing
to thus bless myself with sight of her expressed tenderness
rather than to reassure myself I had been correct.
did love it.
went to it, stood upon its moist dark verge, possessed it fist
upon hip assessed it critically as lover to
lover closing the gap of reluctant absence.
lake caressed her in response, its sifting breath lifting her
dark hair from her brow. It must have spoken
to her though we heard naught for she 1st glanced
to us then girdled it with her boot prints and
in that clear beam dwelt a world entire of
memory, adventure and discovery, fond
mutualities sufficient to bind a heart of feeling
and perception. Such was Esme(e)'s
heard its reeds clacking and whispering while
we waited as she paced it not
measuring time or quality but immersing, taking
on its nature and its offerings as she took
up her cape at other times.
had a way unique to her of setting it upon her shoulders and
walking, then, as she walked at
no other time.
saw an eye of minute ripples near the center
where the depths made the waters bluer
as the lake moved, discussing
her, a smile, perhaps, for
did demand of it.
she did of every encounter she did demand of
what would next occur it being no mere mortal
and so bound to fall before her wealth. But
Esme(e) knew it, they were long companions in adventure and
adversity indeed had
fashioned and formed, at times composed,
the very sequences which