Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour! My exquisite viewers! This is just a drabble of Carlisle and Esme just being together. It may exceed to about 3 or 4 chapters, like Dimming Beauty. Please Enjoy what I have written and review, review, review!
Explicit Guile
Prolouge…
oOo
The forest welcomed the morning.
It never pushed it away or tried to hide under it's branches. The tree roots never tried to trip it and the squirrels never threw nuts at it.
It was always treated as a significant individual.
To any naive patron, this unusual act would be spontaneous as well as unforgettable.
But instead of the wild kingdom pending on the new arrival with grimace, they stare in awe.
Awe at the hypnotizing beams of light as it gently coaxes the evergreens and lavender aromas to lift and sail on the groove winds, and circulate throughout the clearing.
The balmy morning breeze would coo the small buds awake; Mother Nature's beams, her soft delicate golden fingers lulling them the morning lullaby to coax their sensitive numbs awake.
Morning. She revives from the exorcism of nightfall, to the brim of the first genesis peak from the mountains. She has awoken to perform her blessing designated from her orthodox. Her guile eye has seeked far and wide of those that require the fancy of her liking.
"She's smitten with me."
Most would say when she would shine her beams from behind a matted puff of white silk. Her routine, gay and genuine, never lasted but was always golden when it precipitated throughout.
Poppies and roses blushing a tantalizingly sweet honey hue from the intimate gestures of the Slocum and Empress lotus, bounding their exotic stems to the natural darlings. Their foreign tongues serenading the desire they hold for the beauties, swooning their petals.
The mossy rocks growing a scruffy overcoat. Sunlight flusters after the morning aftershave, shining profusely.
Looking like emeralds shining in different shades, each green more vibrant and unique from the next.
But if you were to briefly brush another widowed limb of bark behind you, if you don't look over your shoulder as much. If you would sink your naked toes deeper into the soft mushy dirt with every brisk step towards somewhere, and at dusk, if you were not to look up at the North star to accompany you through the night for guidance, you would almost be there. If you would then if you please, with a brusque movement of your hand, move the sweep of an exotic lilac leafy garland fixated as a wall away from your face, you would finally find a weeping willow tree.
No one can really mark a trail to find this tree. Those who find it can never retrace their steps, the only way to find it, is to desire it, if you want to go to and fro.
The movements will come to you leisurely and effortlessly
Frustration and swears will get you nowhere but acorns giving you a concussion.
Money and scouters will get you nowhere but debt and time you will never get back.
Cheating and lies will get you nowhere but into a deep pit of guile ,stranded in the deep deceitful forest floors.
But compassion and love will lend you a bark.
It will lead you all on it's own.
Each step will be cleared for you, tree roots will quarrel and cower away, sharp branches and leaves will climb trees and poisonous threats will hold their tongues and scamper along under the heaviest rocks as a momentary hiding place.
The tree itself is a thing of beauty, nothing more, nothing less. But like a beautiful despondent girl, it weeps and weeps. "But if a thing that's holding so much beauty, why does it cry of grief?" Some may stop and ask. There really is no true answer, no one really has one but they end up having theories as to why.
Well there is the fact that maybe it does not want to be lionized but become empathized, not for it's unique beauty but for it's sacred sadness. It's a rooted contradiction, a guile contradiction if you will.
Being painfully divine.
Yes, that's it.
A Weeping Willow's grace comes from its sweeping, low branches that droop to create its familiar "falling" canopy.
Tree lovers are bewildered because of it's dramatic appearance and rounded, weeping shape.
You're awestruck now, the fields surrounding this haven has violets and lilacs and crystal white poppies.
You look down to see an oil lamp keeping an earth rock company. The flickering candle illuminates the evergreens.
Squinting your eyes and walking farther out the clearing, you see a pair of naked dangling feet.