Siren Whispers

Siren Song



There is a quiet that I love,

when all I hear is the ticking of the clock

and the lush sounds of birds awakening.

I’m left to my own thoughts,

allowing them to run free,

to go where they need to go.


That’s the kind of quiet I love.

It’s what I crave for my soul’s peace.

But there is another kind of quiet,

where the silence weighs heavily upon me

with loneliness.

The kind of quiet that is not chosen.

but rather imposed,

when your very existence is not acknowledged.

When you are immersed in that kind of quiet,

it feels less like a gift to yourself

and more like a sentence to be served out.


Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced



Catnip to his senses,

she slinks amid his thoughts

with feline grace.

Rubbing against his needs

with audacity.

Marking him as her own

with a nip

and a purr.


Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced


A low growl

It was unexpected

and anonymous,

but anything but quiet,

as it arrived with a low growl

that reverberated against my ribs…

like a prisoner banging a cup against bars

or a storm descending with ferocity.

My mind raced with fervent thoughts,

my pulse sprinting toward some unknown finish line,

until I was breathless with the endeavour,

my skin flushed with an awareness

as the seams of my composure


one stitch

at a time.


Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken by SirenSong1208

*Apologies for the poor quality of the photograph.


Dusk speaks

Dusk speaks to me in silent whispers,

capturing my attention

like a finger dragged along the spine.

My senses sharpen

as the quiet takes precedence

over the lush sounds of day.

Unbound and free

my mind becomes loud,

though I say not a word.

My fingers run over the page

bringing forth

what lurked beneath the placid surface,

with nary a ripple to be seen

until twilight embraced me

and made me her own.


Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken by SirenSong1208

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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



Her song


It is her secret fantasy…

In an intimate club she takes the stage.

Dressed in a long sheath which clings to every curve

and caresses her every movement

she is cooly elegant

in a dress that belies the smoulder in her eyes.

Her dark hair falls in glossy waves about her shoulders

and her lips are ruby red.

She sings ballads of star crossed lovers

and of tortured passion.

The audience becomes enraptured with her voice

as every seductive verse is drawn out

every word, whisper, sigh

imbued with emotion.

She loses herself in the lyrics

feeling every word

living them there on the stage.

Singing them to the one who feels them

with her.

Her audience of one.

The only man she has eyes for.

Her song

for him.


*This is not new. It was written and posted last year but I was reminded of it recently and hope that long time readers will indulge me with another outing.


Photograph of the talented actress Emily Blunt, original source unknown.

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Coppery want


Taste the hunger in the night

black as coal

unforgiving in its depth

this wicked intent reigns supreme

as hands grip and fingers rake the length of me

nails leaving pretty pink tracks

laced with red

draw blood love

and taste my lust

coppery want that begs for more

and lips that will only be silenced with yours


©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph by Bogna Patrycja Altman