Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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Awaiting discovery

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Autumn color displays

its soul, complex and deep.

Eyes feast upon intricacies,

drama against sullen sky.

November’s grip, winter

chasing sun

sky threatening

eruption, emotion held

to its breast,

since spring came and went.

Intense hue

a taste, pungent;

how it lies upon my tongue

awaiting discovery.

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Copyright ©SirenSong1208

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Photograph taken by SirenSong1208

 


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Silent waves

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Blue seas have their own language.

The undulation of dark through light

whispers and roars,

the world becomes strange

day to night. We search the silence

for words unsaid, feelings unfelt,

everything we’ve ever known …

 


Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday

Find the complete version here.

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©Christine Kelly 2019 (words and photograph)

 


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The way she falls

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She was a discovery waiting to happen.

The moment he saw her he knew

evocative of the unexpected scene you come upon

as you wander an unknown path;

eyes widening just a bit,

smile flirting at the edges of your mouth,

something to enrich your senses

and take your breath

and oh how he wanted to get lost,

lost in the way she falls.

and in the way he catches her.

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Copyright ©SirenSong1208

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Photograph taken by SirenSong1208


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Paradox of the quiet sea

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My eyes take in the quiet sea,

appreciating the color and lines,

the clear view of the horizon.

The swells will come,

(this I know)

churning beneath the waves –

unseen but expected –

as I acknowledge that everything

is unsettled

and all I can do

is ride that wave to shore.

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken by SirenSong1208

 

 


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Writing true

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Sometimes writing is like slipping

off your clothes

in the waning light of day

effortless

exhalation on a sigh

but most often it is retching

in solitude

a heaving up of your insides

results that are never pretty

generally painful

but necessary

relief

momentary

 until all that bubbles up

furiously

is expelled

finding purchase

upon the page

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

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Photograph taken by SirenSong1208

 


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When night closes in

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I want to know

the thoughts that linger in his mind

when night closes in.

Do they render him sleepless,

his mind a hive

of activity,

plans and conjecture,

a body fitful with want;

or is he able to pull them

about him,

like a blanket,

feeling every soft pass

against his skin,

an inaudible sigh within

pleasure pulling him deep into dreams.

I want to know

the thoughts that linger in his mind

when night closes in,

I want to know

if they are of me.

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

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Photograph taken by SirenSong1208


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With every breath

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It starts slow —

tentative touch

blooming 

with color across your skin.

Like a meadow in summer,

thoughts that meander

gradually becoming

a steady hum

as he takes up residence.

A delicious

jolt

whenever you happen upon him

coursing through your veins,

pulsing beneath your skin.

Not simply desire

or respect

nor even tender regard,

but an

awakening

to him

and to yourself.

With every breath.

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Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken by SirenSong1208