For those of you who missed my “My Frustration Is Your Opportunity” post – or just haven’t gotten around to leaving a comment – today is the last day to leave a comment/suggestion.

Many thanks to those who left their feedback. I already have an idea with some conglomeration taking shape in my head, but it still isn’t too late for new-comers to bolster or dethrone that idea.

~dS

P.S. Here’s a poem I recently came up with for you;

Feet reach into the dirt,
More-so “roots” than “toes.”
Bark rips through my skirt;
As my prison grows.

The grotto was left unprotected.
The Golden Lily sat near a pond.
But my presence was not undetected.
My hair is now more green than blond.

Roughness seals my slit and ass,
Legs as one trunk, nipples sprout.
Breasts harden as a sexless mass,
Lips frozen into a pout.

Face wooden, but eyes still see.
Arms stretched and birds now perch.
Immobile now as a tree,
With an inkling I may be a birch.