He stirs,
The minion stirs...
A faint melody rippling at different angles,
Under the break of the ocean floor.
It was Heaven...
Out of reach, for him,
As he floated in the stolid blue abyss.
The tune connected with perfect timing.
Like tiny knotted fingers,
Promising to pluck out each string of his heart.
Playing, sadly...
Only for him to hear in his head.
The strange lullaby is lost on anyone else who tries to listen.
Bleeding stars!
Please stop this madness...
It was her.
She had returned.
The siren that sent him crashing upon that rocky shore.
Humming...
It’s the same sound that haunts him as he sleeps.
One crystalline look from his tired eyes and she is gone.
And he is left once again waiting for her,
In Frankfurt Germany we had Lorelei and her sirens. Mermaids are a fantasy as mysterioue as an untimely death and the watery ghost that goes unconditioned. Wonderful and mysterious Mariah.
Mom
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on July 19, 2006
Loved this one. I wrote one not long about about the Sirens, but I dare say it wasn't nearly as concise as this is. You ended this poem perfectly.
Beautiful as a siren's invitation this poem breathes life into the idea that the ocean's depths offer the world Neptune's romantic designs. Where mermaids sing and sailors dream.
This is my personal inspirational book of poetry. It contains many poems written for family, friends, and relevant life situations. Hopefully you will find some that will encourage and inpsire you in whatever arena you are found in your circle of l
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