Nymph Poems

Ciara Cybelle

Her winsome smile belied her secret essence
A temptress and siren 
Given to saturnine quintessence

And I a man of placid and calm complexion
Became ever more umbrageous
With each stranger she offered affection

Ciara Cybelle chose to take her chances
Unconcerned by my mood
Continued her frenzied romances

She swooned at my charm
And laughed at my wit
And yet held to another man’s

The wood nymph

Through the breeze driven fluttering foliage
sunlight licks lasciviously upon her skin.
Through the diaphanous dress that surrounds her
it warms her as her frenzied frolic begins.

In her rarefied rapture she prances,
ending sublime stasis from the night before
when suitor satyrs did woo her,
a legend legacy from days of yore.

Now alone in her wandering woodland
she dances dangerously close to

wood nymph in mine see

.

                   'long thuh long
                           arm
      

117- A Nymph isn't Real

Bitesize Contest No117 Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier

Sprinkled with star dust, bathed in moonlight,
Sweeping her wispy guise into the velvet night.
Captured by her love of dance, so impressive,
The essence of romance, intricate and expressive. 
Her movements defied subjective reasoning to feel.
Not human, a vision, no heart. A nymph isn’t real.

A Siren's Song

Luna beckon's a siren's song 
To reach the crescent moon,
she awakens before the water serpents arise,
and sea merchants sailing in from shores nearby
At crack of dawn and drawn to flickering lights,
night's natator of the bluest sea                   

Sea nymph

sea nymph falling prey
to harsh world realities
~ love overrated



Inspired by Ondine which is a play written in 1938 by French dramatist Jean Giraudoux, based on the 1811 novella Undine by the German Romantic Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué.



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Black Nymph

Born of deep waters
But hiding secret longings 
Which yearns for the air above
Changing skin daily
The black nymph dreams of the day
It could escape the dank mud
'Til the hard shell cracks
Iridescent wings unfold
It emerged as life transformed
Freed from the cold stream
Now belonging to the skies
Yet, bound by mires of the past
It flies close to the ripples

Ephemeral

To escape world’s relentless strain,
From life’s cycle, to epic refrain,
Wander with Homer’s visionary eye,
Where Sappho’s verses lie.

A young man, burdened by false mirth,
Packed his bags and left the earth,
Seven mountains, four seasons he’d chart,
Poseidon’s wrath could not deter his heart.

The sun glinted in his disillusioned gaze,
Along the shore, in a quiet haze.
All he owned had

A Poem for Angitia

A POEM FOR ANGITIA: 
a paraphrased of Silius Italicus (c26-191 CE)
 
Angitia the Daughter of Eeta the Sun
And the Sea-nymph Persa 
Was first to use herbs
In magic and wellness.
She is Mistress of Venoms.
She murmurs by the stream
To draw down the Moon.
By her command the river is held back.
The mountains and the forests become still.

locked in nymph

.

                she knows
                  Yahweh
                she knows
  

pixy nymph dance

.

                'pon

               yesss
                'pon
       

nymph

i don't want anyone to look at me.

i disgust myself.

the way i am makes me sick.

if i could change, I would.

i can't, so instead i lock myself up.

i’ll fix myself one day.

when i have more energy.

not today, probably not tomorrow either.

you called me a mythical creature, did you mean a tiyanak or a nymph?

Gorgeous Forest Nymph

Dancing in the moonlight the gorgeous forest nymph showed truth.
The woods became completely silent as they watched dear Ruth.
She is a child grown from tree roots, the oaks said, claiming her.
Her ambitions and ideas are well-thought out, she has a kindness pure.

The Elusive Nymph

Accidentally I stumbled on the hidden pool,
      I saw her there among the sedge, so lovely and cool,

"Come swim with me," she smiled in an angelic way.
      Euphorically my heart beat fast with radiant sway.

How fast I swam towards that heavenly vision,
   

Nymph

Like a nymph walking through the woods, 
She glides soundlessly through the trees, 
Remembering their lost childhoods, 

She lifts her face to feel the breeze, 
And soft leaves crunch under her feet;
She glides soundlessly through the trees, 

Her head moves in tune with the tweet, 
Obscuring her tears as they fall, 
And soft leaves crunch

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