Grasping At Nettles

Breathlessly we climb the non-metamorphic hillside
the glare squinting at our shadows
your fatherly hand steering my footing.
You fill my head with your 'earth nectar'¦
I marvel at the volcanic rock
that tears through downy grass.
We sit by a piece of 'geology in action'
letting the idleness of a sunny afternoon
dissipate the seriousness of your teachings.
Giggles bubble away inside me and a caress
mirrors the lethargy of the breeze.
Intoxicated by laughter and a cloudless sky
your hand delves into the clump of needle edged leaves.
Your fingers contort the feathery stings
As the sharp twinges ripple on your palm.
You show me the white mounds that pierce your flesh
and I feel the fascination of foolishness.
Our silence acts like a balm
and with a kiss the discomfort dissolves.

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