---

A nymph of the woodlands Echo ran
With huntress Dianna
With strength of man

Beautiful creatures
The nymphs were
Attracting Zeus, his heart stirred

Echo had a downfall
In her earthly walk
She had the last word
When she talked

Haughty Hera was Zeus's wife
Jealous women will cause strife

She went looking for her man
But clever Echo had a plan...

She drew the goddess to
Her verbal web
Had the last word to whatever said!

A vengeful god her anger licked
When she found that she was tricked

"You always wanted the last word?
Well, my dear, you
WILL BE HEARD.

But evermore you'll have a lack
You'll not start conversing...
YOU'LL ANSWER BACK !!!"

Poor Echo wandered
woodlands fair
In depression and despair

She was deep in love you see
With Narcissus, his great beauty

But she could never talk to him
So she was treated like the wind

Echo with her broken heart
In hills and caves began to haunt

'Til she simply faded away
These places she still haunts today.

As rock and stone she became

Call her, SHE WILL SAY HER NAME.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 7/28/2015

Cancer, Cancer, Cancer
I know you well,
we go a long way back
you wanted to **** my mum,
starting with her *******,
and then fondling my dad's *****,
wrecking homes wherever you go.
Who's next?

We build rays to keep you out
what are you all about?
You like those children, too, you pervert.
Cysts, cysts, cysts,
he who will be kissed,
will be missed.
Who's next?

People blow on your cigarettes
while you **** the life out of them,
cutting their hair off, sending off moans.
Listen to their groans.
Why do you wanna see their bones?
Who's next?

Alone in the darkness, I carefully tread
Gazing at the leafy roof blossoming
Pearly flickering snowdrops overhead
A lone orchestra that she is forming
Hushed. I stand motionless, tranquil, silent
Glittering petals floating all around
Hear the eloquent song; dusky, violent
Twirling whilst dances to the velvet sound
In the midst of our homely wilderness
Reaching out to this enchanting spirit
I watch her, Illuminating blackness
My tortured soul I again revisit

Chasing is useless. I don't have her heart
We are seamed together and ripped apart.

in you is a princess....
waiting to be crowned....
in you is wood nymph.....
waiting to sprout....
in you is a mermaid....
waiting to dive....
in you is a lover......
waiting for me....

cease awhile
and hold commune
with his fabrication
and admire
every cordant note
of a symphony yet unwritten.

t’was a nymph
saw i a-Maying
her comeliness
beggared the reach of art
outreached my arms
to touch her tidy traces
alack, gone she
in the mists of morn.

the moon-kissed bed
was light and life
with verdant dewy leaves
astride the speechless
mountain tops
a journey was begun
to rain again
his darts of gold
to every waiting one.
the blanket of
the skies was azure blue
on limpid waters seen
along her hurried way
she dropped those
gaudy flowrets beam.
saw i her locks
in every nodding palm
‘neath the tropic sun.
t’was birds do counterfeit
her melody the
rustling bamboo stole.

they utter now
sweet words of love
as winds doth
beat and blow
the roar and rush
of the swollen river asks:
what is it to you?

sprightly now
the winged ones
from bud to bud alight.
athirst, searching for that
self-same delight.
the crown of earth’s
flowing seas of grass
its mighty arms apart
attentive to the
incoherent whispers of
the breeze that chances by.

what now
messengers of the skies?
what saw you beyond
the floating clouds?
what find you at the
end of the rainbow?
what secrets lie hid
in yonder hills?
pray tell this
to the hurling spar
of the ever-running brook
for down and down and down
she goes to her anxious
ocean-brother.

could she have paced
the grotesque shore
to appease the bleating sea?
now she laps up
the sand-white beach
now she beats
the rock-bound shore with
shrill indignant murmur.

the shore and plain
nod assent
nay, my search is done.
twelve knotty hours
of day are gone and still
my find is none
to tease the gloomy
brow of night
aflame is all the west
in its expiring redolence
my happy nymph adieu.

Water lilies, libidinous lover boys, on the sly
circles her naked body, impertinently
while she unaware of this, swim and play
in her water-crazy, noisy country girl self
in this enclosure of ***** pines wildly in bloom,
She's happy for being shielded from prying looks
of rowdy village boys, adept in disrobing her with their eyes
  
Enamored, the lilies, white, blue and purple
inebriated all, by drinking the nubile beauty
limitless all along,under the  level of water
and above, breached all the reserves,
ahamelessly sevoured her saucy proximity
til she left when the dusk, shed saffron all over.
        Yet in her innocence she would think,
"Poor darlings,how much did they suffer, as I
splashed and broke the calm of the pond all evening"

On his mighty mountain
Jove reigned with his queen
Never questioned
Never held in check
Such riches never seen!

With mount Olympus as his home
Far above the throng
He could do just as he pleased
No, he was never wrong!

Then a fair nymph maiden
Caught Jove's roving eye
Hera was out shopping
He saw the maid go by...

Making his advances
He found that he was spurned!
No matter how he postured
Her head was never turned!

"Oh Jupiter!" She laughed aloud
"You bloated moon, you knave!
I'd rather love a he-goat
For all the gifts you gave!

You have no tact. No honor.
You plurocratic fool!
You pick your teeth with
Poor men's bones
Using wealth as tool!

Go on then! Arrest me!
Force me... if you dare...
But I know Hera's servants
The one's who do her hair!"

Jupiter was stymied
He knew just what this meant.
Hera'd throw a fit for sure!
So he had to relent.

But he cursed the nymph-maid
With great poverty.
But dissing him was such a joy

She'd do the same for FREE!


(C) SoulSurvivor

She says I shouldn't love her;
She says she’s not real:
Just a pixie girl, a
Nymph of my dreams.

Indeed, I questioned her
Reality from the first day
And I finally decided believing
Was better than her not being.

She says I shouldn't love her
Because her job isn't the
Most respectable and I
Should find someone better

But one does not judge a book
By the cover, or how many
Fingerprints mark its glossy bindings,
But instead based on what’s inside.

Her appearance may have been
What first caught my eye, as the
Covers of books usually do,
But when I began reading

Page after page, I knew
I had fallen in love, truly
In love, with the content
Of the book called Bex Olivia.