Symphony of Life

The faery flutters through the spring garden, her colorful wings keeping her alight so she barely touches the ground. Velvet petals and soft grass tips caress and tickle her delicate feet, and she lands gracefully, once more in contact with the Earth Mother, the giver of life and all that is good.

The faery wiggles her toes until her feet are covered with the sacred soil, then closes her eyes and takes a deep cleansing breath.  She can smell poppies and bachelor buttons, lilacs, lilies and sweet allissium, wisteria and cosmos and roses.  Each bears a distinctive and lovely scent, but together they are an orchestra of sweet aromas, blending and flowing and dissipating in turn, their notes fluid in the spring breeze.

She hears the hummingbirds and honeybees as they work, collecting pollen and drinking nectar, and it makes her smile. Opening her eyes she is flooded with colors, adding to the orchestra of sensations: sights and sounds and smells mixing and melding, a symphony of life itself.

The faery carefully plucks some vines and lilies, thanking them and the Mother as she does so, and places them about her, arranging bright leaves and petals so they cascade down from the soft, silky fabric draped across her bust and around her hips.

A butterfly lands on the petals at her chest, lapping at the nectar still dripping from the lily.  A cool breeze sends rippling waves across the thin fabric draping her bosom. The sun shines and warms her, the breezes caress her, the birds and the bees serenade her, and the flowers send their perfumed songs to her.  All these sensations she takes in, until she is pleasantly overwhelmed by nature’s sensual passion play, and the faery’s own sweet, sweet nectar flows, awaiting one who would dare to part her petals and drink.

###

This post satisfies the Daily Post‘s Blogging University assignment, Writing 101 Day 16; Mine Your Own Material. This assignment directs us to “dig through your online treasures and build upon old stories and existing writing.”

This is an exercise in leaving my comfort zone. I enjoy sensual writing and stories, and have dabbled here and there in writing some myself. However none of them have seen the light of day before. I’ve shared only a few stories, with only a few close friends. It took me 3 days of inner battles to finally take the leap and post this story. My inner storyteller said “oh go ahead, it’s only a little racy, it’s not really graphic or pervy, no one will think the worst of you,” but my inner wuss said “omgs they’re going to think you’re a perv, or worse, you’re gonna get pervy followers.”

Well, we’ll see what happens. Will the world end? I’ve published the post, and after 3 days and no world ending, I’m feeling brave enough to post it to Twitter and add the link to my Flickr pic. Another leap!

Please leave a comment and let me know what you think. But please, don’t be pervy. At least not in public. I do have a question for you – should I put some sort of warning at the top of the post that it is a bit racy? Is it racy enough to warrant such a thing? I don’t think it is in my culture, but people from all parts of the world have visited here.