Monday, July 16, 2012

The Little Naiad

She visits this stream in the cool of the morning,
dipping white feet into clear moving waters.
She smiles with soft innocence while her blue eyes,
like tender revelations, sparkle in the fresh sunlight.

Glittering emerald banners are waving behind her,
hundreds and hundreds on the myriad trees, dancing for joy
because she has come to bless these woodland waters,
these gently flowing crystal currents.

Her presence works a wholesome enchantment:
a quiet golden light fills all the wood
and the very breathings of the wind 
are hushed for a moment.

Her brother tosses a stone and splashes her.
She yells at him not to do that again.
Their parents tell them to get their shoes on,
it is time to move on down the trail.

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