Cracking open the carapace
Sloughing off the skins
running through the forests
scraping all my shins.
All I really want to do
is find the girl within.
I rarely write a poem
which is metered or with rhyme,
I usually find they miss a beat
or fall into their own time.
So as I continue with this creation,
I find it breaking down,
Into my usual style.
Less rigid, less formal,
no rules for her to fight against,
come on little girl, come and share
this space with me and we
can be as free as we choose to be together.
The free spirit,
who runs wild at night
through forests, dark and mysterious.
Wood nymph, spirit girl, refuses to be held
in captivity, though many tried.
They all lost their wild child,
held captive in an embrace
which was not free or loose,
which wasn’t open when she turned
to offer her own free love and passion.
The burden of your needs and expectations
are just too heavy for her shoulders.