The Cherry Tree, by Christine Ann Clatworthy

The Cherry Tree

“ Winter fast approaches;
you appear and it is springtime;
the crimson streaks of sunset pale
beside the silvered moon.
I entreat you, Cherry Blossom,
whilst all around us slumber,
tread softly through the gloaming,
and come meet me in my room.”   “ Husband of the Shadows,
see the mist consume the valley;
the paddy-fields are empty
and the weaver leaves his loom.
The velvet cloak of evening
I shall wrap around my shoulders..
if you stud it with a thousand stars,
I will meet you in your room.”   “ How you shiver, Cherry Blossom!
Let me warm you with my kisses;
my sheets are made from finest silk,
the blanket – edged with lace.
Take the ribbon from your tresses,
let them sweep the down-filled pillow,
as the willow’ s tangled tendrils
rouse the spirits of the lake.”   “ Husband of the Shadows,
I would gladly do your bidding..
if the bedspread shone with diamonds,
each one of them, hand-sewn..
Lay my head upon the pillow,
if you fill it full of dreams for me,
then you shall let my hair down
and untie its satin bow.”   “ Don’ t tease me, Cherry Blossom!
How I crave your treasured nectar;
let me court you as the honeybee,
and feast upon your blooms?”
“ I don’ t mock you, gentle husband.
Come – strip bare my laden branches!
It is you shall reap their harvest,
and be first to taste their fruit.” - Christine Ann Clatworthy

Christine Ann Clatworthy