The Nymph Will Not Wilt, Poem 2: The God, the Boy and the Fox
Fantasy poetry project
This is the second poem in a fantastical poetry series called ‘The Nymph Will Not Wilt’. It features a mythical nymph-like figure who embodies all the beautiful aspects of nature. Her charm is something that’s admired for its youthfulness and vitality, but as all things touched by time, she, too, will have to face the idea of mortality.
The Nymph Will Not Wilt, Poem 2: The God, the Boy and the Fox / Zeta Ferrer
Glowing eyes like smouldering coal
from inside a herd of deer,
the God of the Forest watched,
drawn to her ideal.
Like fire craving wood,
consumed by his desire,
he wanted to unravel them
together; wrap his flames around her.
She saw him watching, playfully,
attention is her second skin,
slowly beginning to understand
her beauty’s expensive appeal.
Although he wanted what he saw,
she passed him by without a glance,
and left him wanting evermore,
even a god never had a chance.
Next came a village boy green,
he brought her flowers from the hedgerows.
Finding her bathing in the lake,
his heart, his breath, his world
went still, while she just giggled out loud.
She splashed some water at his feet,
redder than ruby turned his cheeks,
and out of sorts he squeaked and ran,
flowers still clenched in flustered fist.
Then came the fox with careful tread,
his coat orange like autumn leaves.
Despite his cunning, he stopped to stare,
enchanted too was the poor thing.
And so she gathered suitors many
and played their hearts like harpen strings.
Through seasons falling she beguiled,
until one summer came the wind,
it whispered of the wilting stalks
and broken, old, unwanted twigs.
Thank you for reading 💛
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