Nymph Poems | Examples

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 arm

Ciara Cybelle a nymph out of hell
Twisting a man
With her temptress spell

I had to make her understand
She simply had to see
I must be her only man

But Ciara Cybelle laughed instead
Eyes flashing fire
She brazenly said

The likes of me would never know
The deliciousness
Of the charms she would bestow

On other men she found fairer
Then in a rage
I struck in blind error

And carefree Ciara Cybelle
Lay shattered and still
At my feet where she fell

To the dark waters I fed
The alabaster body
Of Ciara Cybelle dead

Now benthic stillness of cimmerian depths 
Disturbed by the pale lifeless limbs
Of Ciara Cybelle

Now tumescent and water pruned
The once sempiternal beauty
Forever ruined

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 free,
to the magical music of birdsong,
lithe limbs twisting beneath her trees.

She tosses tousled hair to the morning,
with artistic abandon she flies,
among the sun speckled leaves of her true loves
who brush branches to signal their sighs.


wood nymph in mine see

.

                   'long thuh long
                           arm
                      hern rests
                          Purty
                        her legz
                   drape each it's
                          side
                    "comfortably" 
                  thuh poet writes
                       Her belly
               firm 'gainst it's girth
                         whilst
               her chin rests in her
               propped up mitt via
                 hern petite's taut
                          arm
              And whilst her visage 
                        smilez
                  she starez up
               "Ahh" herz gasps
             peek'n through thuh
                      canopy 
             az she spy'z an eagle
               spiral'in thuh open
 
               Her curious guess
                    "it's spy'n 
                    my beauty"

Premium Member 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.

Premium Member 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                     
zigzag's through the starfish 
Caught in a seaweed beaded necklace,
tangled in nets sailors left adrift,
she reaches the open prismatic sky
A rainbow parrot fish tail flips over 
smoothed sea glass rock 
A  siren goddess  appears
Multicolored moments, eyes dilate
as indigo hues glow—it blankets
in silhouettes upon flowing strands of hair
Embracing the early morn with a sigh,
mystified mermaid from deep underwater
her thumping heart beats calm, in sync 
with the crashing wave as it trickles down
A phenomenal crescent moon luminescent 
As a cool salty wash laps the rocky shore,
it recedes with sizzling sounds leaving 
pocket holes in the wet sand
Dawn calls with haunting cries,
she sings a siren's song


Premium Member 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

Premium Member 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

Premium Member 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
                  Yeshua
                she preyed
                      to
                    know
                    mine

pixy nymph dance

.

                'pon

               yesss
                'pon
          the acres uv
             lavender

               there

        whut the poet
             longs for

          the sparkling
               slight
         clad in crystal
                blue
                with 
    sparkling diaphanous 
               wingz

              spining
tumbling with blue crystals 
        spilling in circles
        the Spring wind
           touching it's
                 soft
              cauzing
            gentle slow
                 rise

     the artist enthralled  

     for the Sun outlines 
 too the taut through that 
          diaphanous
               frock

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?

Premium Member 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.

Premium Member 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,
      Only to see her vanish in a colourful prism.

Premium Member 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 under her feet, 

Around her heart, she's built a wall, 
Which crumbles here amidst the leaves, 
Obscuring her tears as they fall, 

Her soul heavy, their deaths she grieves, 
In silence, mourning for their love, 
Which crumbles here amidst the leaves, 

She knows they're watching from above, 
Like a nymph walking through the woods, 
In silence, mourning for their love, 
Remembering their lost childhoods.

Premium Member Nymph of the Night

She danced under milky moonlight,
Lithely swaying to starry strains,
Twirling like a nymph of the night;

He watched her waltz - a graceful sight,
Heeding no decorum constrains,
She danced under milky moonlight;

In the shadows, it seemed just right
That she would set alight the plains,
Twirling like a nymph of the night;

Stopping his heart took all his might,
As it raced to her without reins,
She danced under milky moonlight;

She knew he was watching, her knight,
To impress him, she took all pains,
Twirling like a nymph of the night;

He joined her dance, what a delight!
Holding his hands without restrains,
She danced under milky moonlight,
Twirling like a nymph of the night.





12th November 2022



For L Milton Hankins' "Third-person Villanelle" contest

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