Valley of cypress and pine,
Safe house of my purity,
Concealer of my divinity.
Strong, independent, and pure,
The power to my name. 
Power, gained by royal blood,
Kept by sacrifices and admiration.
Purity, most admired of all,
A sacred connection between my wise sister and I,
A beacon of hope for young girls,
Who long for independence, 
Who long for strength.
This valley, of cypress  and pine,
Containing my very being, 
Upholds the same for others.
My lovely companions,
Beautiful nymphs,
Clothed by the valley also.
We are not alone.
Throughout the lan,
Men, mortal lovers of my own passion,
They, baring impure hearts,
Hold eyes that threaten me,
My very being, my purity.
Young Actaeon, that fateful day,
Wandered the valley, 
Baring not an impure heart,
But a passion for the hunt nearly matching my own.
Still, he posed,
The greatest threat.
Stumbling with ignorance,
Into my inner sanctuary.
My very soul exposed,
Frozen, we stood,
Only for a moment,
 Locked in each other’s gaze.
My nymphs rush around me,
The action too late.
In his face, I see,
A reaction,
Reflecting that of my own,
But also that of a stag,
Stunned, frozen amidst danger.
I know well, that,
With danger, every creature, 
Has one reaction,
Mine, being to flee
But my power went to fight.
As I turned,
 Pure water, soaked the boy,
Turning him to the object of my thoughts, 
Once a metaphor,
Now reality.
Actaeon truly stood,
As a stag.
The gaze now broken,
He too turned to run.
Gone, in the blink of an eye.
Poor Actaeon’s luck that day,
Truly had run dry.
Running straight into his pack,
Trained to kill his very being,
By his own hand.
His, now the greatest sacrifice of all,
Upheld my very divinity. 
For his sake,
My purity,
One of my greatest treasures,
 Now hidden so well,
It will never be threatened again,
In the valley of cypress and pine.
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression. Always let poetry fill your life. Keep expressing your heart.  

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