Ruby Red

The shabby, pink shoes were full of holes, but her heart was intact;
full and complete.
Her zest for life shone bright and clear,
her smile was soft and sweet, but her secretive eyes glowed darkly.
She moved through the woods silently, weaving her familiar way through the serious
trees;
her bare brown knees were bleeding, scratched by spiteful thorns that
dared to challenge her authority.
The humming bees welcomed the gypsy as she descended into the sunlit valley,
like a queen returning home triumphantly, in another time,
another forest.
Gently swaying, she sang to herself, a magical melody from a long time ago,
when the forest was young and so was she....

She knew he was there, she stood her ground without turning around,
her inner woman swiftly detecting
the masculine scent of the dark-haired youth.
She calmly paused. Waited quietly. Knowing his next move even before he knew it himself.
Her breaths deepened, her lips parted and her little pink tongue started to
caress her sharp white teeth.
The gypsy's smile widened, her dark eyes closed in intense concentration.
Swinging around, her curly hair danced a tangled tarantella around her amber face.
She was on fire.
He loved her.

The hot sun warmed his smooth, bare chest.
Sweat glistened in a thousand tiny diamonds,
running down his body, coming to rest
where her eyes longed to linger.
Hypnotised by the subtle scent of womanly musk, the sensuous swing of her hips and
those madder-red lips,
he followed the gypsy, down through the long grass, to the river.
Down to the river, the snaky, slow-running sliver of deep, silent water,
keeper of secrets, where the reeds swayed and played their ancient music.

And the familiar song, a thousand years old, filled her head
as she led
him onwards, holding his big, strong hand in her long, slim fingers.
He made no objection as she made him lie down in the shady grove, had no
recollection of who he was, or why he had gone there.....
Lost in the depths of her gypsy eyes, drowning gladly in the power of her persuasive passion,
he surrendered, and lay on the soft, cool grass.
He gazed up at Ruby, wondering ....


Closing his long-lashed eyes, he heard birdsong
and dreamed of endless skies
of deepest blue, of the gypsy's lithe and lusty thighs; he awaited her kiss,
breathed in her heady and intoxicating perfume,longed for the moment when her satiny, golden skin would melt with his. He wanted to fly....
Ruby smiled again. She pulled out her little, sharp knife, the taker and giver of life,
and held it up high
where its silver blade flashed in the sun.
With a triumphant laugh, she brought it down quickly
and cut out his heart.
Which was hers from the start.