Siren Whispers

Siren Song


She is the ebb and flow of the sea


She is the ebb and flow of the sea.

Rushing in to invigorate

To arouse.

To make him feel alive

With the quickening of her surf

And again to recede

In gentleness.

Leaving behind reminders.

A constant in the background

Of his day.

Always just a touch away

But never intruding

Except when the swells build up

And passions rise

Threatening to overtake her.

It is then

That she shows him

Her true measure.


*Not new but simply, and currently, a truth.


Photograph taken from BlackSwanDive

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Message in a bottle


Upon the great expanse of liquid divide

setting sail

solitary missives

rendered brave

in their endeavour.


In the first days

her verse spoke in tones


and yet,

not to him.

Cursive scrawl which read…

“He said compliments that come in a left & a right

a Shakespearean verse or 2

give light to my thoughts & desires

an earnest prising of you”


Hours became days.

The next fragile craft was set afloat.

“Sometimes my words drift along

waiting for your breath

your touch

the sweet ripple of your current flowing into mine”


Time moves as swiftly as the current

and as rapidly as her mind.

Her thoughts come quickly,


focused upon him.

Words take flight and arrange themselves thus…

“I speak to you

In one language


The one’s oft studied

Your hungry mind


This is the one

You will become fluent in”


She continues


and unchecked…

“Could you consider

That this is the thing

For you

The view aspired to

The touch hungered for

The mind that could sweetly battle with yours”


With each send off to the sea

she scans the horizon

watching the tide

waiting for her moment.

and then…

“Once more with feeling

setting her to music in his mind

finding her as unique as an accidental

he moves thru her melody

one note at a time”


The scroll carefully berthed within it’s harbour 

makes it’s undaunted attempt

upon choppy seas.

“She reaches out and touches only air

his warmth


in the whisper of her name

and the way that he called her



Every word becomes a way

to touch

to speak.

Every word she releases

becomes a message in a bottle.



Photograph taken from Tumblr








Washed ashore


Broken mornings

find me washed ashore

from dreams

that leave me shipwrecked

tossed upon the rocks of my desires.

The crisp, white cotton

reduced to a tangle of heated sheets

gnarled and gripping my limbs

like seaweed.

The surf pounding my flesh




The violence of the waves

mirroring the ferocity of my emotions.

I hold my breath

and wait

for the sea

to engulf me.



Photograph taken from the internet, original provenance unknown.

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Soulful sea


Hers is a soulful sea

as wide as the Sargasso

and with depths

still to be plumbed.

An oceanic landscape

ever changing

yet remaining constant. 

Ebb and flow.

She is fluid

in thought and desire

and as passionate

as white-tipped waves

within a storm.



Photograph taken from Tumblr


The lure to ride the waves


I wish to be on a board in the sun.

The swells of the sea undulating beneath my open thighs

As I scan the horizon

It’s peaceful

And yet exhilarating

My memory is strong

Three summers gone

The board is long

And unwieldy

As I am not used to its length

Or weight

It was purple and white

I recall an intense feeling of excitement

Building within

One for the bucket list

A girl of the sea

I had always been

But had never taken the plunge

And ridden the waves before

At least

Not on my feet

The adrenaline that I feel

Being tossed and turned by

The ocean’s current

Should frighten me

Make me more cautious

But I’m addicted to that high

The way it makes me feel


When I emerge from the surf


And breathless

But balancing upon fiberglass

And the power of the sea

That was a new test

As with everything new

I was focused

As well as thrilled and nervous

But I was all in

And all in it turned out to be

I’d ride the waves to the shoreline

Flying off into the water

Before I made land

Laughing and paddling out to try once more

Except for that last time…

Like every other attempt

 I caught the swell

And rode the wave to shore

But that final time it came faster

The surging current swiftly moving inland

Like a bullet train

And I was caught off guard

My board hit the sand

Flinging me off

Pitching me face first into the sand

A horrifying sight I’m sure

To those sitting there

I managed to stand up

Sand in my mouth

And my head ringing from the impact

Not realizing the damage I had done

The wounds caused

And just how lucky I had been

But despite the danger

Despite what happened

The lure to ride those waves again

Tugs at me

As the ocean does to the shore


*Continuing with my (apparent) aquatic theme, this is not new but from two summers past. And the lure still tugs at me.


Photo taken from Pinterest


Tastes of the sea


The moonlight upon water 

catches the lilt of the waves as they rise and fall.  

The ebb and flow of the tide

speaking in hushed tones.

The night is dark and as soft as velvet.

They are alone.  

The beach is deserted,

 the only indication otherwise 

the path of clothes leading to the waters edge.

They are there within the warm waters 

with nothing between them but the sea,

lapping around them.  

She is pressed to him, 

her arms around his neck

her hands in his hair and upon his neck

caressing him.

His hands stroke her back, her hips, her arse

gripping their curve and pulling her to him 

pressing his urgent arousal against her

finding her warm and willing.

Their kisses are deep

tongues tangling

teeth nibbling.

They are lost in each other

fingers sensually smoothing over wet skin.


He lifts her up and as he does so

she wraps her long legs around his waist

his hard against her soft.

She arches her back

and he leans down to take a nipple between his lips

laving the tight rosebud with his tongue.

Enjoying the feel of her

and how she tastes of the sea.

The way he touches her

arouses her so completely

makes her wild to feel him inside of her.

As she kisses him

she wraps her legs tighter

pressing against him.


They groan into each other’s mouths

as he enters her

his hands squeezing her cheeks

controlling the movement

both of them lost to their arousal

as it violently crests.

She holds tightly to his shoulders

as he thrusts into her again and again

taking them down to the sand

water rushing over them

cooling their heated skin

but never dousing the fire between them.


*Another piece that is not new but I beg your indulgence with this repost, my mind consumed with the sea at the moment.


Photograph taken from Pinterest


As fluid as the sea


She is as fluid

As the sea

Calm when there are no storms

Restless when the wind picks up

And movement is needed

And at times stormy

When she has been burdened

She ebbs out to the horizon

But like all sea water

She always makes it back

To shore


*First posted in November of 2014 but some things remain constant.


Photograph taken from the internet, original provenance unknown.