She wakes in a puddle of sunlight.
Her hands asleep beside her.
Her hair draped on the lawn
like a mantle of cloth.
Tag: love sleeping amour roman sunlight ode payne roman-payne nymph pastoral pastorale
With her wild red hair draped around her pallid visage, she could easily be mistaken for a nymph from a Pre-Raphaelite painting. But then again, those nymphs were rarely hung-over or quite such a freckled, busty little thing.
Renate LinnenkoperTag: curves freckles pre-raphaelite nymph
...you are not what you seem - you're a Sylph - you leave and the air retains your image - you haunt me...
John GeddesTag: supernatural nymph sylph
And I thought to myself how those fast little articles forget everything, everything, while we, old lovers, treasure every inch of their nymphancy
Vladimir NabokovTag: love lolita lovers nymph fast-little-articles
Overheard on a Saltmarsh"
Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?
Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?
Give them me.
No.
Give them me. Give them me.
No.
Then I will howl all night in the reeds,
Lie in the mud and howl for them.
Goblin, why do you love them so?
They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man's fair daughter,
Your green glass beads on a silver ring.
Hush, I stole them out of the moon.
Give me your beads, I want them.
No.
I will howl in the deep lagoon
For your green glass beads, I love them so.
Give them me. Give them.
No.
Tag: beauty desire possession goblin nymph beads
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