The Prickly Pear

by Mike Marino

The desert held her secrets. Locked in sand, caressed by winds. Desolate and dead. The sun beat hot, beads of sweat emerged from her skin. Tender skin, alive, green, life not death.

The sun gave her life and she stood tall amidst the saguaro's and yucca's and scorpions. The mirage danced in the distance, her shroud of illusion. Emerged naked from the embrace of illusion and offered her fruits and meats to the weary traveler.

The sand hid all her secrets of desert desserts. It was not desolate and dead, instead alive with sustenance to quench hunger and thirst.

Berries on bushes, birds in cactus nests, lizards scattering across the hot sands and the roadrunners laughing at the tarantulas dancing eight legged fandangos.

He marveled at the blue veil of her sky, sheer and enticing, slighly revealing. Her invisible smile of wind caressing his face. Her sandy inuendo reaching into his heart.

Deep into a pool of delight, cool and wet. Swimming freely, fearing he'd drown in her magic. She came closer and he tasted her flesh and drank full from her fruit and marveled at the desert and all it's hidden delights.

The Prickly Pear of the desert feeds and nourishes the interloper in need...some marvel at her beauty... others call her a weed!

text by Mike Marino

THE ROADHEAD CHRONICLES BOOK

By: Mike Marino

http://www.angelfire.com