I am standing stately, so lean and tall.

The light shines and covers me in its warmth.

Hours, days, weeks, months turn into years.

Season after season has come and gone.

Spring in its renewal, summers of long, unhurried days.

Fall so splended, arrayed in passion's colors, and winter so bleak and barren.

I am standing here waiting.

Daily they walk by me. How they marvel at my beauty, exclaiming aloud, sighing with trembling lips.

Their voices grow soft in awe at my regal bearing.

Standing and waiting.

How I long that he would overcome his shyness and draw closer and touch me.

To feel the softness of his fingers as he gently caresses my limbs.

If only he knew how much I yearn, how I crave for his blade, his possession.

Is there no one strong enough to claim me? To plunder the depths of this passion inside of me?

I am standing and waiting ..... still.

Donnali -- June, 1999