The Little Fairy's Flower Garden

[Herculine]

Flying high is this what it is about,

Loud machines that venture and roam the sky,

Bullets flying all around,

Thrill of duel and completing up the task,

Seeing your opponent fall,

or looking at your engine die,

this what its all about.

 

Haven't wrote anything for a long time saw this thread decided to write something.

 

I'm glad you decided to post here! I know I gave the thread a specific theme of romance and eroticism when I created it, and I get doomy and gloomy here as well, but I do enjoy many different themes in poetry. I'm actually working on a poem now that has a sci-fi combat theme. But it's looooong and not quite ready to be posted yet...

[Herculine]

Very good guys. I like to visit this topic now and then sit back and relax while reading your poems. Keep up the good work.

 

Thanks, and I'll try...

[kungfubellydancer]

:) I hope this is suitable

 

http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2009/342/5/e/Ch4_Light_of_Elysium_Illust_by_kungfubellydancer.jpg

[Herculine]

:) I hope this is suitable

 

It is indeed suitable, and don't worry so much! Everything I've ever seen you do is beautiful and I would never object to you posting it here. Thank you for making my garden that much more beautiful.

[Herculine]

Remember when?

 

A computer was something on TV

From a science fiction show of note

A window was something you hated to clean

And ram was the cousin of a goat.

 

Meg was the name of a girlfriend

And gig was a job for the nights

Now they all mean different things

And that really mega bytes.

 

An application was for employment

A program was a TV show

A cursor used profanity

A keyboard was a piano.

 

Memory was something that you lost with age

A CD was a bank account

And if you had a 3-inch floppy

You hoped nobody found out.

 

Compress was something you did to the garbage

Not something you did to a file

And if you unzipped anything in public

You'd be in jail for a while.

 

Log on was adding wood to the fire

Hard drive was a long trip on the road

A mouse pad was where a mouse lived

And a backup happened to your commode.

 

Cut you did with a pocketknife

Paste you did with glue

A web was a spider's home

And a virus was the flu.

 

I'll stick to my pad and paper

And the memory in my head

No one's been killed in a computer crash

But it makes their face turn red!

[Herculine]

The Story of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus from Ovid's Metamorphoses

 

How Salmacis, with weak enfeebling streams

Softens the body, and unnerves the limbs,

And what the secret cause, shall here be shown;

The cause is secret, but th' effect is known.

 

The Naids nurst an infant heretofore,

That Cytherea once to Hermes bore:

From both th' illustrious authors of his race

The child was nam'd, nor was it hard to trace

Both the bright parents thro' the infant's face.

When fifteen years in Ida's cool retreat

The boy had told, he left his native seat,

And sought fresh fountains in a foreign soil:

The pleasure lessen'd the attending toil,

With eager steps the Lycian fields he crost,

A river here he view'd so lovely bright,

It shew'd the bottom in a fairer light,

Nor kept a sand conceal'd from human sight.

The stream produc'd nor slimy ooze, nor weeds,

Nor miry rushes, nor the spiky reeds;

But dealt enriching moisture all around,

The fruitful banks with chearful verdure crown'd,

And kept the spring eternal on the ground.

A nymph presides, not practis'd in the chace,

Nor skilful at the bow, nor at the race;

Of all the blue-ey'd daughters of the main,

The only stranger to Diana's train:

Her sisters often, as 'tis said, wou'd cry,

"Fie Salmacis: what, always idle! fie.

Or take thy quiver, or thy arrows seize,

And mix the toils of hunting with thy ease."

Nor quiver she nor arrows e'er wou'd seize,

Nor mix the toils of hunting with her ease.

But oft would bathe her in the chrystal tide,

Oft with a comb her dewy locks divide;

Now in the limpid streams she views her face,

And drest her image in the floating glass:

On beds of leaves she now repos'd her limbs,

Now gather'd flow'rs that grew about her streams,

And then by chance was gathering, as he stood

To view the boy, and long'd for what she view'd.

 

Fain wou'd she meet the youth with hasty feet,

She fain wou'd meet him, but refus'd to meet

Before her looks were set with nicest care,

And well deserv'd to be reputed fair.

"Bright youth," she cries, "whom all thy features prove

A God, and, if a God, the God of love;

But if a mortal, blest thy nurse's breast,

Blest are thy parents, and thy sisters blest:

But oh how blest! how more than blest thy bride,

Ally'd in bliss, if any yet ally'd.

If so, let mine the stoln enjoyments be;

If not, behold a willing bride in me."

 

The boy knew nought of love, and toucht with shame,

He strove, and blusht, but still the blush became:

In rising blushes still fresh beauties rose;

The sunny side of fruit such blushes shows,

And such the moon, when all her silver white

Turns in eclipses to a ruddy light.

The nymph still begs, if not a nobler bliss,

A cold salute at least, a sister's kiss:

And now prepares to take the lovely boy

Between her arms. He, innocently coy,

Replies, "Or leave me to my self alone,

You rude uncivil nymph, or I'll be gone."

"Fair stranger then," says she, "it shall be so";

And, for she fear'd his threats, she feign'd to go:

But hid within a covert's neighbouring green,

She kept him still in sight, herself unseen.

The boy now fancies all the danger o'er,

And innocently sports about the shore,

Playful and wanton to the stream he trips,

And dips his foot, and shivers as he dips.

The coolness pleas'd him, and with eager haste

His airy garments on the banks he cast;

His godlike features, and his heav'nly hue,

And all his beauties were expos'd to view.

His naked limbs the nymph with rapture spies,

While hotter passions in her bosom rise,

Flush in her cheeks, and sparkle in her eyes.

She longs, she burns to clasp him in her arms,

And looks, and sighs, and kindles at his charms.

 

Now all undrest upon the banks he stood,

And clapt his sides, and leapt into the flood:

His lovely limbs the silver waves divide,

His limbs appear more lovely through the tide;

As lillies shut within a chrystal case,

Receive a glossy lustre from the glass.

He's mine, he's all my own, the Naid cries,

And flings off all, and after him she flies.

And now she fastens on him as he swims,

And holds him close, and wraps about his limbs.

The more the boy resisted, and was coy,

The more she clipt, and kist the strugling boy.

So when the wrigling snake is snatcht on high

In Eagle's claws, and hisses in the sky,

Around the foe his twirling tail he flings,

And twists her legs, and wriths about her wings.

 

The restless boy still obstinately strove

To free himself, and still refus'd her love.

Amidst his limbs she kept her limbs intwin'd,

"And why, coy youth," she cries, "why thus unkind!

Oh may the Gods thus keep us ever join'd!

Oh may we never, never part again!"

 

So pray'd the nymph, nor did she pray in vain:

For now she finds him, as his limbs she prest,

Grow nearer still, and nearer to her breast;

'Till, piercing each the other's flesh, they run

Together, and incorporate in one:

Last in one face are both their faces join'd,

As when the stock and grafted twig combin'd

Shoot up the same, and wear a common rind:

Both bodies in a single body mix,

A single body with a double sex.

 

The boy, thus lost in woman, now survey'd

The river's guilty stream, and thus he pray'd.

(He pray'd, but wonder'd at his softer tone,

Surpriz'd to hear a voice but half his own.)

You parent-Gods, whose heav'nly names I bear,

Hear your Hermaphrodite, and grant my pray'r;

Oh grant, that whomsoe'er these streams contain,

If man he enter'd, he may rise again

Supple, unsinew'd, and but half a man!

 

The heav'nly parents answer'd from on high,

Their two-shap'd son, the double votary

Then gave a secret virtue to the flood,

And ting'd its source to make his wishes good.

[species5478]

Another intriguing addition to the garden.

:wink:

[Pushkatu]

Remember when?

 

 

Nice!

[kungfubellydancer]

http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2009/350/1/c/I__ll_Share_My_World_____by_kungfubellydancer.jpg

[Herculine]

http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2009/350/1/c/I__ll_Share_My_World_____by_kungfubellydancer.jpg

 

I love it! Drawn by hand? It's refreshing to see a fantasy image posted that doesn't look CGI. I think sometimes we forget what we can do with our hands.