Unconditional shelter, 
woven in green and sunlight 
that sways an easy largo
in a soft soft prayer to the sun. 

Your tendril yawns
(August afternoon)
down to lazy tickle the earth
who ripples quite softly
(with a playful shimmer)
under your sun-scorched house. 

And, later on,
an Aeolian gust tempts you into a waltz
and you — quite meekly — consent
to be guided:
Thus, together you dance. 

Each leaf whispers 
a flirtatious glance,
as you rustle under his gaze. 

This invisible caress
which your branches embrace
sings of sun-burnt mirth to the skies. 

And here I lie under this scene:
Juliet of Green Leaves
Coyly smiling. 

I smile too 
and am grateful for you,
For your
Unconditional shelter, 
woven in green and sunlight 
that sways an easy largo
in a soft soft prayer to the sun.