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.