Christopher Haywood Poet Narrative

When the Fairy and the Nymph Meet

Where silver spray explodes against the stone, 
A dryad* steps from willow-boughs of jade, 
To seek the rushing water’s deep, cold tone, 
And find the sprite within the foaming glade. 
With gossamer and wings of morning light, 
The fairy hovers o’er the river’s roar, 
A spark of golden dust in rapid flight, 
Descending where the waters wash the shore.
The nymph, with eyes as dark as mountain rain, 
Reaches to touch the creature’s fleeting glow, 
As if to bridge the divide of her domain 
And catch the grace the soaring spirits know. 
They meet where nature’s wild and rushing breath,
Defies the quiet stillness, life, and death.

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Marian Sidlik September 19, 2026 at 2:45 PM Dear Chris, I am truly captivated by your lyrical creation that transports one to other realms... Your poem possesses not only pure rhymes but also an inner harmony, which is essential for recitation. It evokes an atmosphere similar to my poem, *The Abyss of Seductive Dreams*. I wish you good health and abundant creative energy...! Marian Sidlik, Slovak poet (man).