The pale face of full moon shone through a veil;
An owl hooted a greeting to the night,
Outside a Siren’s voice began to wail,
Crying her mournful song in the moonlight.
A light breeze sent the net curtain flying,
As she flew through the window to my room,
In my warm bed, comfortably lying,
I dreamt of becoming her blissful groom.
She whispered my name with angelic voice,
Full of seductive promise of the night,
In her warm embrace I wished to rejoice…
Her eyes lit up with a deep-reddish light
And the fickle moon escaped behind a cloud,
Covered its face with a funeral shroud…
© P J Oszmann (2008)
© Illustration created in Photoshop. (2008)
Footnote: I was “playing” in Photoshop, altering colour and saturation of a digital photo of a Carnival mask I took in Venice in 2007. The resulting image in the illustration (and my mood) inspired the poem.