Wind-Tree Relations

The wind grabs the tree passionately in his embrace
Enveloping each leaf with his lips and probing it like a lover's tongue
Caressing it, shifting it, eliciting a rustle like a lover's moan,
Taking his time to slowly, gently, work his way up to a state of high heat
Then slowing down again, the moans ebbing like waves on a beach.
And just when you think it is safe to breathe deeply again
The wind pulls the tree closer to himself
Increases the pace
Letting go with wild abandon and ardently wooing the tree
So that the rustling becomes deafening
Lovers riding on a great wave of passion that builds, builds, builds
Until
At the last shuddering climax
They roar
The leaves quake with a moaning groaning rustling orgasm
And then they fall silent and still -
Spent.