a nymph and her lover turned into a tree by the gods
Hearing a white saint rave
About a quintessential beauty
Visible only to the paragon heart,
I tried my sight on an apple-tree
That for eccentric knob and wart
Had all my love.
Sylvia Plath - On the Plethora of Dryads
last week of october, 2010.
2. the dryad leaning her sadness