WOOD NYMPH

I disguise myself as bark of tree
and silently lie in wait...
There is no malice in what I do.
It is my nature to lead astray
the unsuspecting hiker, lost
in the forest depths; to play my game
of hide and seek that lures him deep
into thicket and brier, nettle and Fairy Ring;
where visions compelling as empyrean dreams
slowly possess his mind...

I never deceive. The mistake is his
if he desires me as ideal mate,
then follows his delusion with lustful leer
that ravenously devours every womanly curve,
a heavenly face and eyes that draw him
to my Otherworldly domain where the compass spins
and time plays peculiar tricks: where a midday sun
bleeds to death in the western sky
and his lifespan concludes in the blink of an eye.
But oh why do I have to watch him die?

Try to see that I have no choice:
being hybrid of woman and tree,
I've no stomach for Sunday roast - no, not I.
My sustenance is limited to the Souls of men.
Yet it gives me no joy to see my half-cousins
sacrificed to keep me immortal.
So heed my warning when I tell you I'm trouble...
and if ever you wander alone in my Forest
be sure to stay focused on the path ahead
and hurry, hurry home.