Maple Tree Nymph

Maple Tree Nymph
© Surazeus
2022 12 11

Red flaming dress of the maple tree nymph 
rustles with delicate shyness of hope 
that true love will fertilize her weird mind 
with happy visions of humanity 
that show how we prosper with spin of time 
by sharing stories in grand feasting halls. 

Green superficial beauty of the mind 
explains how women of the country town 
speak secret language only they define 
to ensure production of lonely souls 
who walk the unpatched road to everywhere 
while singing anthems of the fallen land. 

Old stories of the jester in the woods 
instill loyal love for the family 
in children searching for the laughing book 
to understand the properties of herbs 
which heal the broken hearts of somber fools 
who stare too long out windows at the sea. 

On shores of the Lake of the Restored Sword 
the youngest sister of seven boys cries 
for the handsome pilot of the fighter plane 
who crashed in the field of wheat at midnight 
then dances alone in fog of the dawn. 

Through rustling reeds of marshes by the sea 
ghost of the fighter pilot walks alone 
with eyes full of bees that sing to the moon 
before the faceless owl with glowing eyes 
sees ancient power swirling in his heart 
because he forgot his horse in the hills. 

Groping through funhouse mirror maze of dreams, 
the maple tree nymph with seventeen eyes 
attempts to organize financial data 
for corporations which control the world 
by assembling puzzle of modern myth 
through analysis of conceptual love. 

The nameless women of Avalon greet 
pilgrims progressing home to Wonderland 
with flowers blooming in gardens of ghosts 
that veil the most beautiful soul on Earth 
with timeless wisdom of the radio hymn 
we sing as we march into gates of Hell. 

Though she lies alone in house by the sea 
the maple tree nymph with long tangled hair 
reaches out to hold my hand in the dark 
which connects our hearts with rhythm of waves 
that flow as sparkles in tune with the moon 
because it might crash into Earth one day.