The Nymph Poem by John Rickell

The Nymph wakes from winter sleep
deep snow laden pastures greening
with the sun; blues about the sky
cheerful songs and foxes cry
Lambs laugh at mothers' warnings.
the copse is not a place for play
stay close with us; fear not the dog
the smiling fox is not your friend.

Innocent in her dawning
not heeding rumour
casts away her clothes
naked breasts and open thighs,
not a thought for April showers
fecund seed cast far and wide
to quench a thirst long waited.
Winter but thirty weeks
there is time enough,
but not to waste.