Genie of the Forest

We rest our weary legs
in a Weeping Meadow Grass carpeted clearing.
Rufous Fantails dart between Clerodendrums,
beckoning us to follow.

The hum of traffic is a fading memory.
Her fingertips bathe me in compassion.
The gleam in her eyes,
the wonder of her words,
such a bewitching duet.

If an excruciating debacle
snuffs out her precious sparkle,
I want to cradle her in my arms,
resuscitate her joyful charms.

Later, I meditate on the paradise of a kiss
and imagine her face in the throes of bliss.
Genie of the forest,
you granted every wish but one.