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I. Eros walked slowly through the forestland, Near Mount Olympus, in the soft twilight. By his side, he held his bow in his hand, As he walked on through the advancing night. Above the forest, the evening was clear, As a full moon lit up the mountain’s peak, An endless number of stars filled the skies. Through the trees, he saw a wandering deer, That appeared to be searching for a creek— He quickly followed its path with his eyes. II. Reaching back into his quiver with care, Eros placed an arrow within his bow. He quietly raised the bow in the air, Then he slowly crouched his body down low. He watched the deer at the creek quench its thirst, As he swiftly trailed it through the thick brush— Suddenly, there came a beautiful sound. The music startled both of them at first, Then Eros and the deer left in a rush— The arrow fell from his bow to the ground. III. As they both followed the sound of the lyre, They then found themselves now coming nearer To a woman on a rock near a fire— Her sound and her beauty became clearer. The deer slowed down from the pace which it ran, And shook the loose leaves away from its fur— Erato had brought an end to the hunt. Her playing always charmed both beast and man— The deer calmly listened from behind her, And Eros stood enamored from the front. IV. They listened together, as she played on, Wearing myrtle and roses in her crown. Further into her presence, they were drawn— Surrendering, Eros placed his bow down. In the moonlight, Erato’s tunic flowed, Appearing light blue within the green trees, And her golden lyre began to glisten. The fading embers of her campfire glowed, And remained burning in the gentle breeze— Eros stood and continued to listen. V. Overhead, the moon hid behind a cloud, The fire was soon extinguished in the dark. Her playing became increasingly loud, And the fire reignited with a spark. The playing then soon silenced in the night— Her precious lyre upon the rock she placed, And handed Eros a golden arrow. He then watched the deer leave in the firelight— Being thankful, for their presence it graced, And for the sounds from the clearings narrow. © 2023
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