Pink fleshed and eight inches long
were fruit maidens
that hung from the tree in the secluded forest
but can one be greater than unlawful desires?
How is it
that forbidden love always reaps disaster?
If a man was to pluck one from the tree, oh to indulge
in belligerent lovemaking
then prepare to hear the goblins cry,
sweet to the tongue and appealing to the senses
in turn bereave one of his masculinity.
“Oh to taste the nectar that befalls from the tree,
would that the night reserve
few such moments for me,” the brothers wander
with their heart set
upon acquiring possession of the fruit maidens,
unaware of the myth
and stories that were attached to the forest by villagers.
Until the wee hours of morning
the trees blew with the accompaniment of watchful wind,
“stay close,” he whispered
as a head raised on a coiled ribbon snake stared
in their direction,
just then a slender figure rose from the banks
of a misty river,
the villagers discovered two bodies stripped of blood
and glued to the tree a few days later.
Photo credits: Pinterest
Read here about the Nariphon legend from Thailand.
Posted for Poems in April @ Real Toads
Posted on Poetry Pantry @ Poets United