Wooded Hills and Reveling Spirits

Atop this Hill

Staggering around, tumble and trip
Over another rock, mashing my lip
Back up to the cup for a stinging sip
Revelry under the stars, atop this hill

The katydids return a screech owl’s call
Feasting, and guzzling, a good time for all
Three staggering steps and a stumbling fall
Not mindful of any pain until morning

Mirthfully howling into the starry night
Any good senses, having long taken flight
The full jug of shine, a reveler's delight
Under a magnificent night sky, atop this hill

Blurred vision and somewhat blissfully bent
Another roaring cheer, raised and sent
Off for another good smoke inside the tent
Making no sense of this night until morning

Sharing this hill with the bear and skunk
The best of places to put on a good drunk
Into this big jug, our sodden heads have sunk
Under a tilted cup atop this dark wooded hill

The clashing of our cups, in we lean
Such nights are few and far between
Smiling faces, some never again to be seen
Heavily under the influence atop this hill

Falling three times, staggering off to bed
Hitting the ground, a bump on my head
A dreamless void, sleeping like the dead
The fire burns low high atop this wooded hill

The following morning

Just past dawn
An aching awakening
Rising to an upright position
Door flap zipper difficulties
Through the trees, rising sunrays
Slicing my eyes like bright fiery blades
Shivering cold morning, I had to urinate
Fine spirits and clean mountain air
Slight hangover head wear and tear
Cool Saturday morning atop this hill
Spraying the rock I tripped over last night
Gazing into shadows beyond the green foliage
Rubbing burning eyes as to better see
Shake, tuck and zip, whistling with a fat lip
Cuts, bruises, bumps and a painful knee
I must of put on a big one last night
I must have been quite a comical sight
My falling down drunk, getting up
Then falling down all over again
This mountain morning all to myself
My comrades encamp, are still in the sack
Out past the count, probably until noon
A good cup of coffee is all I lack
And that shall be remedied soon

Ascending up into the Southern Alleghenies
Mist shrouded mysterious mountains loom
Shadowy sloping rises, densely forested
Ancient mountains in their primeval gloom

Deeply grooved by cold clear water cascading
Thousands of such many fast falling streams
Far older than the Alps, Andes and Rockies
Where the spirits of the wild sway dreams

Take us northward winding river valley road
Upon magnificent vistas our driver dares a glance
Lofty ridges looming above this winding River
In the soft breeze bright wildflowers dance

A year of civilized culture falling away
Spring shedding of winter’s old skin
These ancient mountains have embraced us
It is good to be up in the Alleghenies again

The much cherished memories of earlier times
Enough inspiration for an old poet’s rhymes
Far less troubling than the days we now know
Those that were long ago and so far away
Our encampment beside a mountain river
Brothers, sisters, cousins and good friends
Gathered around this camp’s first night’s fire
Smiling faces bathed in a warm golden light
Cold ale, smooth moonshine and good camp smoke
And flowing swiftly over and around rocks
The river’s sweet music keeping spirits aloft
Night’s insect fliers fluttering within our camp’s glow
Some floating dead drunk, deep in our cups
Carefully fished out, or else washed down without care
Many years ago upon that moonlit spring night
Offering our pipe first, to the four winds
Then passed several good times, merrily around
A wonderful evening in the high, wild and free
Many long miles from the same old ground
Mirthful howls escape both lungs and lips
Answered in good time by a katydid’s song
Mid-spring in the Appalachian Mountains
Humankind reverting to a more natural state
Scant care about who and what is early or late
Little concern for the measuring of time
Always relying upon these dark wooded hills
As we do each new spring morning awakening
Peering out of the tent at this verdant green
Mist shrouded vistas surrounding our camp
Aroma of coffee brewing, she awoke before me
Her beautiful face showing so little pain
Of last night and our long wild reveling
A good day for fishing, no chance of rain
Bacon, eggs, fried taters and biscuits baked in a pan
Coffee brewing, she called me back into our tent
While the others still lay in their sodden slumber
A pleasurable poke, coffee and good smoke
Before waking the others for their breakfast
With red eyes, they rise like the living dead
Too much moonshine down their endless gullets
Too much good camp smoke for their heads
Youthful recovery and a new day’s promise
Any fashionable trends or television network news
Have little significance here in these ancient mountains
It all seemed unimportant and so very far away
Watching this morning’s campfire flames dance and leap
An untroubled time when good smoke was cheap
And true love was a young fool’s fleeting fancy
Making ready our rods and checking our reels
A good stretch of river and an angler’s zeal
The other women went foraging for morels and ramps
But she saw fit to fish by my side
Landing six fine trout to my small two
But I knew her as the sweet sharing kind
She even helped me untangle my line
For I was casting too close to the trees
Second night’s fire, supper, drink and good cheer
Cups and mugs clash, in our quaffing and pouring
Over dark ridge tops our spirits are soaring
By the campfire our stories are told

..............

Originally Posted by Wisa'ka

Ascending up into the Southern Alleghenies
Mist shrouded mysterious mountains loom
Shadowy sloping rises, densely forested
Ancient mountains in their primeval gloom

Deeply grooved by cold clear water cascading
Thousands of such many fast falling streams
Far older than the Alps, Andes and Rockies
Where the spirits of the wild sway dreams

Take us northward winding river valley road
Upon magnificent vistas our driver dares a glance
Lofty ridges looming above this winding River
In the soft breeze bright wildflowers dance

A year of civilized culture falling away
Spring shedding of winter’s old skin
These ancient mountains have embraced us
It is good to be up in the Alleghenies again

you speak my heart. i moved away from these mountains for twenty years and moved back about 4 years ago. so good to be home.

Originally Posted by Gracey

you speak my heart. i moved away from these mountains for twenty years and moved back about 4 years ago. so good to be home.

Thanks Gracey.

I can think of no better muse.

A collective soul of weakening wills
Under the full moon they will not dance
Fearing spirits of these wooded hills
Yet in passing, casting a curious glance

Wandering away from that fearful crowd
To high places where some can only dream
A wooded bank obscured in a misty cloud
Hovering over swift flowing mountain stream

In the still of dawn comes a soft low breeze
Mist droplets bejeweling your raven hair
And the new green leaves of ancient trees
A place ever dreamed of, yet few will dare

I’m dreaming about the mountains again
Walking upon a rarely trodden trail
Cresting the ridge where it dips and bends
Descending into a thickly wooded vale

Carried by a dream up into the forest deep
A weary body at rest and a roaming soul
Flickering slivers of light as shadows creep
Far beyond where the other campers stroll

Come frolic with me all through the day
Into the night under this full silver moon
Why not take a chance and come this way ?
Should I expect your visit soon ?

Take my hand and step out with me
A bed of soft meadow grass we’ll share
I’ll make you wild and then set you free
Far from your every little care

In passionate bliss, I taste your sweet lips
Into the west the sinking sun has all but sunk
In warm close embrace the time slowly slips
And you’ll look even lovelier once I’m drunk

Nameless River

In days of wandering far and wide
Alone upon paths he had never walked
Across lush valleys and over steep ridges
Fording rivers and skirting the swamps
From atop this mountain he wanted to know -
What was drawing him to that valley below ?
Drawing him from the places he would go

Swiftly descending upon an easy path
Unknown birds warbling strange songs
Exotic blossoms never had he seen before
Huge trees covered in jade hued leaves
Obscuring the ridge from where he came
Shading a river he knew not it's name
Unlike other valleys nothing here looked the same

The instinctive chill running down his spine
And his hackles raised high were mistaken
For ebullient goose bumps, excited as he was
Upon seeing her play above the river
Long hair as dark as a raven's wing
She frolicked upon a wild grapevine swing
Above this nameless river she began to sing

"Come into the river with me
Come hold me in these waters
So very long I have not been held
So very long I have been lonely"
Senses reeling and his heart did quiver
Releasing her swing, she plunged into the river
Splashing water sparkling in a sunbeam's sliver

Resurfacing, she swam for the bank
Stepping out and slipping off her wet kirtle
"Come with me into the river
Come hold me in these waters"
Blood was pounding as his heart did race
Looking into her eyes and that lovely face
Kirtle at her brown feet, wet delicate lace

Mesmerized he gazed at this exotic beauty
His eyes taking in her every brown curve
Thus so enchanted he fell under her spell
Barely feeling the rifle slip from his fingers
Removing powder horn, shot pouch and pack
Letting everything go he should not lack
Pulling off his buckskins, never looking back

Drawn to her beauty and open arms
No heed paid to the chill down his spine
As more than hackles had been raised
Harder than the pounding in his heart
Advancing swiftly without a care
Water dripping like jewels from her hair
Just short of her he stopped and stared

Taking her hand, she led him downstream
Where the waters grew swift, shallow and wide
Down by where this nameless river fell
Into a beautiful mist shrouded pool
Beside this pool she stepped away from him
Slipping into the misty water up to her chin
Gently bobbing she started singing again

"Come into this pool with me
Come hold me in these waters
So very long I have not been held
So very long I have been lonely"
Into unknown waters, murky and cool
He leaped right in like a young lusting fool
Neck deep, seemingly into a nymph's pool

Nearly obscured in the mist, she swam away
Close behind, he cut through the water
Turning she faced him with a mysterious smile
In her warming embrace he felt no chill
Even warmer after what was next to occur
Slowly putting himself inside of her
Almost too warm for him to blissfully endure

Their lips and bodies, tightly they pressed
Deep inside that warmth, he closed his eyes
Taking her lips off his, she softly said -
"So very long I have been hungry"
For his foolishness he would pay a price
No longer warm, now cold as ice
Her embrace held him like a steel vise

Her once lovely smile, now a fanged maw
Those once sweet full lips, now scaly and thin
That once raven hair, now algae green
It's sharp curved talons tore into his vitals
His water nymph had changed into a river hag
Into the dark depths it was swift to drag
Another lustful fool it happened to bag

Jenny Greenteeth or Peg Powler in the UK. Here in the USA we have a certain siren of the falls. Ever hear of her?

Originally Posted by RiversLady

Jenny Greenteeth or Peg Powler in the UK. Here in the USA we have a certain siren of the falls. Ever hear of her?

I know the river and the falls where a siren dwells. She has called many off the lofty rocky outcroppings by the falls to their death. Be aware there are other entities and supernatural beings that inhabit the rivers, creeks and streams here in America.