Senses Play Tricks

by KatC

..........................for Amy

When you come into view
my senses play tricks.

On the soccer field
the sun shines differently
focused solely on your lithe,
sleek form
all others in shadow.

Your intense concentration, focus
on chasing the ball, reaching the goal,
draws out an ache to be the ball, the goal,
to be thus pursued.

Winded, you pause, slightly bent forward
hands on knees,
my cheeks feel the puff of each exhale
the sweetness of your breath follows
as secrets whisper in my ear.

Laughing you toss your head back
continuing the chase and I'm pulled along, too.

______________________________

Across the pasture
bouncing blond ponytail
reflects golden sunshine
and grabs full attention.

Either for my pleasure or torment
cut-off jeans appear,
tanned thighs flexing and relaxing
guiding the mare this way and that.
Today I choose pleasure.

Somehow I pick up the scent of you
from the many markers of summer
dry straw, green grass, the sun's heat baking the earth.
Even with this symphony
your scent dominates
etched in some permanent cell of memory.

A wisp of envy rises
watching the patient mare
guiding you to claim your own strength and power.

And then, from some deep
dark unbidden place
a small bubble floats lazily
to the surface.
Ah, to be the saddle, too.