In the misty mountain morning
I saw a sight sublime:
A fairy woman dancing
Along the steep incline,
Her figure deftly swaying
Among its glossy reeds
With wistful feet betraying
The fairness of her breed
As she skipped across a brook
Flowing with peony red –
The frailest one she took
To ornament her head –
Her silhouette cavorting
Against the rising sun
As the birds began reporting
On the shadows of her run
Then aloud sang she
With a voice as bright as gold
When she jumped out from a tree
With stark glare icy cold:
“This mountain’s mine, fuck off!”
Spat straight into my face,
Held her foot aloft
And shoved me off the place
Sending me a-tumbling
Over brooks and across fields.
My body caused a rumbling
As to gravity it yields
And my puzzling descent
Leads me not to figure out
What for I was rent
From picturesque to now without
A fairy woman to appreciate
And a scene to be blessed by
But hurtling at increasing rate
All blurs inside the eye
When the valley fast approaching
Sends heavenborne its lakes
As her mountain falls a-crumbling
And my misty morning breaks.
Morning's Early Dark 