Nymph

BY CAROLE NICHOLS


Water foaming like a boiling cauldron,
Nature steaming, hissing, gone mad;
Slowly she rises,
Arms reaching to the sky
Body beaded with rainbowed drops
From her salt laden sea bed.
Hair streaming, sleek,
Caressing skin of burnished gold;
The nymph greets a jaded world.
Rosy lips a tempting smile,
Inviting, enticing, beckoning,
Seeking to lure your life-weary soul,
Eyes flashing
As dark as the midnight world
Where she abides,
She sends you her siren's song,
Dancing only for you in the frothy foam,
A sight to capture a lonely heart.
Mesmerizing, hypnotising,
Till you feel that ancient pull;
Walk into her waiting arms,
Or die from the need
For consumation of her sultry promise.
And she promises the moon and stars,
A place to rest from life's toils,
The completion of all your dreams,
If you would but come into her charms.
Oh, be wary, young man,
She would steal your very soul,
For she has none of her own;
She is illusion.