Adieu

And like a wave born of a swell

Another year is upon us

Racing in to the shore

Pulling the remnants of the previous year away

To memory

We bid farewell to the old year

A time of growth and awareness

Joy and loss

A new year beckons

With the promises a new day brings

The tides turning

Presenting new opportunities

And possibilities

That we should grasp 

With both hands

Before they slip away

With the tides…

:

©SirenSong1208

Watercolour art by Lia Melia

 

*May I extend my best wishes for a happy and healthy 2018 to all of you who find the time to read my words, who are generous with support and comments, who I am privileged to call friends. Happy New Year!

 

Bow to strings

Violin plays to my soul’s voice.

Your lips find my skin

With every note played

Sometimes tenderly

Slowly elucidating every note and feeling

Drawing the sweetness to the surface

Sometimes with an intensity

That takes my breath away

With a passion that brooks no resistance

Lips to skin

Bow to strings

You become the maestro

Of my body and soul

And the song spills from my lips

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced

Heated

The cool quiet of this winter night

is heated

by thoughts of you.

This night

becomes one with the darkest of dreams.

Conjuring you up

over the miles

to show me what true possession feels like.

Dark imaginings of your skin pressed to mine

the play of your fingers

across my breasts

my belly

my thighs.

All of this

poured into decadent dreams

as desire saturates my mind.

A kaleidoscope of passion.  

I am breathless with every thought I can summon.

Thoughts that become fantasies that become dreams

that are dark and dangerous and daring.

Full of delicious promise

that makes my skin dance

and my body tremble

with the heat of my arousal.

Dreams so real, so vivid

that I can feel the ridges and whirls 

of your fingerprints

left across every inch of sacred flesh

and your scent

clinging to my skin as I wake

intoxicating me

anew.

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced

A Christmas Eve instruction

Click here for audio

Christmas Eve mass.

A time for reflection.

But for her

she was thinking of anything

but the birth of the baby Jesus.

She felt naughty

and alive

for she had been given instruction.

Her eyes danced with mischief.

Her secret

and his.

She knew he must have smiled

as he typed the words

wondering at her reaction

feeling a delicious tug

at the thought of her

doing as he had directed.

Up went her skirt

past the lace top thigh highs

dark against her pale thighs.

She tugged her black lace knickers down.

Off they came and down went the skirt

smoothed along her thighs.

Enjoying the feel of her naked skin and sex

against the skirt.

It was a first for her

and she found it a most delicious practice.

Every time she crossed her legs

every time she moved

she was aware of her bareness.

She thought of him each time

knew he would be pleased

and this aroused her

as pleasing him always did.

Going to church

would never be the same…

*This was first posted three years ago. At the time it caused a bit of a stir. Two years ago I added audio. It’s a favorite piece so I beg your indulgence once again.

©SirenSong1208

 

FIN

When something is at an end, deep inside you know.

The end credits may not yet be rolling,

but FIN is upon the screen in your mind regardless.

What can you do but immerse yourself in grace,

swallow disappointment and pain,

whether vague

because of the length of time it took to slowly and coldly unravel,

or as an immense lump in your throat

that you cannot get down because it is already clogged with hot, wet tears.

Grace means finding the best of what was

so that anger, hurt, fear

does not close the doors of your heart permanently.

It means being true to yourself

and using that as a guide to how you respond,

regardless of how you were treated.

You may never have answers as to the why of it

and there may never be any vindication for what has come before,

but grace means letting go and making your peace with that, 

and knowing you are better for it.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photography by SirenSong1208

Your story

Wrap me in your arms

and tell me your story.

The guts and the glory

the trials and tribulations

the pain and the sadness

the happiness and the joy.

I’ll tell you

about all of the moments

that came before you

and we can work on

the moments that came after.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced

 

Winter goddess

He dreams of pure white flakes

in the dark storm of her hair.

Of laughing eyes

and cheeks pink from the cold.

.

He dreams of peeling off her clothes

and of laying her down

in the snow.

Of watching her shiver

before running his finger down the length of her

her eyes locked upon his

her body arching to his fingers

before covering her shivering body

with his heat

with his hands

with his mouth.

.

He dreams of her

his winter goddess.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2016

Photograph by Esmahan Ozkan

A siren’s fairytale

 

This girl

never stops imagining.

Heroes and heroines

bitter foils and happy endings.

A knight in shining armor to save the day

or the one to put me in peril.

.

Wend your way through this rough thicket of life

The vines and thorns that bedevil the path

To find me

Rose red in slumber

Needing your touch to bloom

A kiss to awaken me

To glorious possibility

Or perhaps

I just need you to be the wolf in the woods

Seeking this Red’s tender neck

To bite

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph by Lindsay Steele, Model: Courtney Alexis Cameron

 

Sensuality

He balances

on the edge of my sensuality.

Precariously close

and yet

too far.

Breathing in

my essence.

Letting it

saturate him.

Allowing my taste

to settle

upon his tongue.

Savouring me

with sight

smell

and taste.

Yet

not touching.

Knowing

I’d pull him into the flames

with me.

:

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced 

 

Strings

Their thoughts

Become clandestine

As they meet in the night

What was ordered by day

Becomes a symphony

Of havoc

Played upon

The strings of the heart

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced