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.

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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.

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

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

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

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

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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.

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

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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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

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