Resort Poem by David C Probst

I've heard your call, I'm coming down
This winding, smooth and silky slope,
Down to the cabin in the woods
Where I shall stay and rest a while.

Up here, the air is brisk and clean,
My lungs inhale the piercing breeze;
Down there, a cosy scent awaits me
Enwrapping me with fiery fume.

I'm on my way now, dashing down
The mountain's chin and neck until
A flattening slope appeases my verve
And leaves me time and space to meander.

Ere long, my ride accelerates anew,
Across a narrow vale between two peaks,
And down towards a tiny dent
Surrounded by more dodgy snow.

And then, beyond a final hill,
I reach the homely woods at last!
With ease and skill I wag my way
Straight to the hut down in the dell.

The door's ajar, the fire's on.
You call my name and ask me in.
My face flares up in steamy heat.
We kiss and stay embraced, in peace.