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The Mountain Nymph

Atop a mountain sits a lass. Her laughter, clear as tinkling glass.

Her body poised to take a dive down the stream that's so alive.

She arches back, and does a flip. Cartwheels, over rocks she'll skip.

Slides on step-stones covered with moss. Flicks her tresses, defiant toss.

Splashes playfully 'round a stone. Sits on one to claim her throne.

Off the throne, then down she falls. Hair drapes shoulders, golden shawls.

In the pool to have a rest. Slower now, all for the best.

'Round and 'round the pool she swims somersaults and crazy things.

Wicked currents bring her near to the edge.  She shows no fear.

Her feet stick firmly to the floor then she pushes off to ride some more.

Down the cascade like a veil fanning out, a peacock's tail.

Creates a rainbow with the sun many rainbows  not just one.

Beads of crystal ice so sweet fall down at a hiker's feet.

She sees him as he tries to pass, sends a shower of shimmering glass.

She flaunts her body for him to spy and yes, he sees her by and by.

Her nakedness has him entranced. He joins her in her lively dance.

They swim the currents as if one. His body glistens in the sun.

Sunlight warms his naked skin. Again she calls, he dives right in.

She beckons him to join her slide. Down the mountain side he rides.

He lands heavily at her feet, eyes closed in Eternal sleep.

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