Forgotten Ground Regained
The Green Man Awakes
Dreaming myself awake, my mouth
flower-full, overflows with fragrance,
overpowers you, kisses spring
into lithe limbs waking from winter.
Mine is the vice of the virile vine,
the twisting tongue that tempts and teases,
tangles your senses, sets your mind
rusing, racing, dancing, spinning
till I catch your thoughts in knot and grain,
in leaf and line, snaking stems
and the sensuous seduction of breathless scents,
surging and scintillating. But mine is the dark
green of the holly bough; handsome, unflinching,
bearing fortune and truth, strength and tears,
the sharp cure, each leaf a door
opening, closing: dare you pass through?
And in my green twining, I offer you
rubies, blood red at ankle and finger,
plumped fruit juicing, parted lips,
and the skipped beat of a waking heart.
Originally published as the title poem in The Green Man Awakes, ed. Rose Drew (Stairwell Books, 2009)
Copyright © Oz Hardwick, 2009
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