Nymph

Clad only in nature’s garments sat a nymph of seventeen,
Her eyes like sparkling crystals with circles of vibrant green.
She leaned against an old oak tree next to a babbling stream,
Dreaming of starry nights and magic yet unseen.
She sang sweet melodies entwined with magic spells,
To entertain the woodland creatures and pixies in the dell.
Her voice so lovely it drew them all, from king to common fey,
They came from near and far to hear her magical serenade.

He followed the sound of tinkle bells a melody of beauty,
A song so sweet the flowers wept with joy at its singing.
He fell in love with her voice as he moved across the meadow,
A fine young prince from far away who stood quietly in shadow.
Tall and fair with flowing hair was this prince of Fairy,
A perfect match for the nymph who dreamed one day to marry.
In his quest through every glen and over hill and dale,
He sought out a fabled nymph of whom fates had deemed was ready.

The sky clad daughter of a goddess, the son of a fairy king,
Bring the summer flowers, with a wedding in the spring.
Sparkling like sunlight, motes of pixie dust float on air.
Dewdrops on flowers and a sprinkling of rain,
Multitudes of rainbows form a canopy up high.
As the residents of fairy, are summoned by the King.
Nature’s music plays, as she sings a sweet melody,
Of what love brought together by a babbling spring.

One day they will rule, in this land of wild magic,
The land that lies beyond the sight of any not of fairy.
Least you think that you may see, do not tarry long,
For sights not meant for human eyes, can be the cause of harm.
Magic is a wild thing best left to those who see,
With heart not mind and belief in all that should not be.

©Saroya Poirier