Tag Archives: nymphs

In Woods Green

In woods green
Nymphs were sometimes seen
By mortal men.
Now when
Girls I see in short clothes,
Their toes
Bare, to the sultry air
I wonder where
All the inocence has gone.
Yet Aphrodite
Was flighty
(Was she not?,
And on hot
London nights
Phone calls will be made
And visits paid
By aphrodite, to oh so mortal men

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Libidinous

Nature is libidinous they say.
Yet on my way
Through the woods today
No nymphs did I spy.

Though perchance
They performed a hidden dance
Amongst the budding tree
But not for me.

Some Find Their Muse In Forests Green

Some find their muse in forests green
Where the nymph (so rarely seen)
Is brought to life on paper.
Many a romantic caper
Takes place on virgin page,
That pristine stage
Where maid
Is forever staid.

Other poets reach their sweating hand
Towards the lone phone,
So as to command
For a while,
A nymph’s enigmatic smile

The Sprite’s Tune

The nymph of tomorrow
Portends sorrow,
While the sprite of today
Sounds a doleful lay
On her violin
Of sin.

Round the budding rose
The satyr goes,
Listening to music sad
That will drive him mad.

the sprites continue to play.
There music divine
Does say
“Drink of my wine
Forbidden
And in caverns hidden
We will spend our day”.

The satyr doth long
For wine more strong
Than any taken
Before.
He tastes, and is left forsaken
And forever craving more.

Satyrs and Sprites

The satyrs drink
And think
On woodland sprites
And fleeting delights.

The sprites preen
And glean
What they may
For youth passeth away.

“Will you stay
Awhile?”
The satyrs say
With a nonchalant smile.

“I will remain
Until dawn does stain
The sky with gold.
Tomorrow will be a cold
Day”,
The sprites say.