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Rated: E · Poetry · Mythology · #2189938
'Neath the earth's white frozen skin she waits her mother's call. Traditionl Poetry Winner
The Wood Nymph


The goddess Nature lifts her veil
of winter cold and colors pale
revealing, now, the land's rebirth.
A new beginning for the earth.

She gathers up golden sunbeams
for hair as tenuous as dreams,
and finds the perfect shade of skies
to color soon-to-open eyes.

A pale pink from a winter rose
colors the cheeks, touches the nose,
against a field of fairest skin;
the beauty both without and in.

The morning sun comes softly stealing.
Leaves drift open, now revealing
the outline of a girl asleep,
protected in nature's green keep.

She stretches limbs, now newly formed,
and marvels how the sun has warmed
and brought the meadows into bloom,
filling the air with sweet perfume.

The nymph knows, without being told,
that all she sees is hers to hold
and keep safe as if each part
were, somehow, attached to her heart.

She spends her days on constant guard
and, though the work is very hard,
she's filled with all the joy it brings,
reflected in the songs she sings.

Her nights are filled with carefree dance
and dreams of longing and romance.
The seasons change and, as before,
the autumn bows at winter's door.

Beneath a quilt of crackling leaves,
she lays her head but never grieves
at what has passed, for in her sleep
she dreams of what she might yet reap.

Beneath the earth's white frozen skin
she waits her mother's call again.


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An May entry for "Poetic Traditions Poetry Contest
Line Count: 38
Form: Quatrains written in rhyming couplets (a/a/b/b)

Wood Nymph
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