here on the island,

a tender adult

sits on a piece of driftwood

by endless tides

in the noonday hour,

where the winding streams

come together into one.

here he grew up in the experiences

of walking the mountains alone

to appreciate great things

when she addressed him

in the softest of accents

to continually revive the power

that love is indeed

like a water fountain.

it is here he saw an image,

like that of echo

in the glow with slightly parted lips.

the wind came

and it disappeared.

she came, took him by the hand

to a place of great flowers

and white leaves throughout.

intoxicated in all the love

for the modern day poet.

power of vigor in all the charms

for all that beautifies,

like that of a nightingale

singing the sweet song.

the ink bears her name

on this sweetest of white leaf.

8 responses to “THE WATER NYMPH

  1. ‘the water nymph’

    Floods the senses with crisp mountain air, salty spray, flower fragrances, and the stirring excitement held in the warmth of a hand…
    David in Maine USA

    • arabwriterchick, i’m elated that you enjoy this piece. i’m starting to feel in this area that it can be attainable. my blog is a mix of uplifting to the reflectives of life’s tougher moments. thank you again…:)

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