The Pebble

I had come this way before
through valleys deep and green
breathed the scented air
found the copse deep in fern
a mossy bank to lay my head
damp with dew-crystal-sweet
to quench my thirst; a pebble
smooth and white nestled in a fold.
Took it in my mouth
to roll it round my tongue
cool upon my lips sucked
its effervescent skin,
put it back into the moss
to search again and found
a secret I'll not tell
of which you cannot know.
The earth gave forth a spring
my body woke . . . . . . .
a stirring I had know before
took me from my dreaming,
I shook in mild delight
my body quick and taut,
confessed my need  
to the gentle spring,
safe within the dewy moss
content in the scented air.