~ Pipes of Pan ~

~ Pipes of Pan ~

Syrinx of the waters; most comely and fair
An Arcadia sun dancing off ringlets so rare
Beauty and grace amongst bountiful reeds
Espied by that Satyr with beastly needs

He of the hoof, and rigged goated horn
Pursued your fleeing, his passion wild borne
Your sisters alarmed of your possible fate
By shallows as a reed you stood, tall, straight

And he who saw you vanish from sight
Pranced in confusion of his now futile plight
Til ever so softly a caressing breeze passed by
And your plaintive, forlorn melody couldn’t deny:

Pan triumphant, now plays his reed of seven
Syrinx eternally his, her notes, his heaven.



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Filed under Mythological Poetry, Nature Poetry, Poetry, Uncategorized

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