Going for Gold

mountainashgold

Slammed in the deep-freeze,

put on ice and left to dry;

sapless, hopeless, helpless –

until she encounters

the Lord of the Wood.

All winter,

roots have dug in desperation

and found vein.

Hands and heart have swayed in wind

and leaves have leaked,

discarded rainbow offering,

pyrite

cast aside

for something more precious.

Suffering

finds Ore

and as hope oozes,

she’s going for gold…

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He Never Saw Her Value

He never saw her value,

the way the sun drew out

the gold in her hair and  her heart,

until it was too late.

Solid,

comforting,

mining worth from the

crumbs he tossed at her feet,

she died to him slowly;

over years of neglect,

the arteries seeking sap

withered and found new source.

He reaches,

but grasps air –

she is falling,

falling,

ore he can no longer touch,

gem he can no longer claim

as his own.