Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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Clouds gathered

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The end of summer

Came before summer’s end

As clouds gathered

Beneath his brow

A tempest formed within

The sun sought refuge

With the moon

Hiding its face

Its warmth

The shadow it left

Lengthening across the miles

The deep blue sea

Becoming belligerent

Turning on her

Without mercy

Its waves

Relentlessly

Washing over her

Heedless of its own

Mindless brutality

Drowning her voice

Relegating her

To its cold, dark depths

Where silence

Is all that she hears

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Pinterest


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Pursuing the shadows

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The silence of the night

Blankets my thoughts

Allowing them to fade from the light

Pursuing the shadows

The nyctophile within

Celebrating the darkness

That sits not solely

With sky, moon, and stars

But which seeps from my soul

Out upon my paper

The ink drying

In vivid strokes

Identifying my words

As absolute

In their intent

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Pinterest


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Vellichor

I haunt them like a ghost,

drawn to the vellichor

found within four walls.

A dusty, low lit date

with history.

Each shelf holding the means

to entrance me.

I sidle down cramped aisles

fingering spines

breathing in the musty smell

of old books

and time,

bad lighting adding to the ambiance

and my mood.

Wondering at the stories,

the ones not found within the pages.

Where did they come from?

How did they get there?

Were they read again and again?

Were they well-loved?

Finding an inscription,

a scrawl of cursive ink,

I wonder who they were,

what they were like.

They are faceless,

these erstwhile owners,

but their story is rich

within the depths

of my imagination.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Pinterest

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Abandoned rooms

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Once

laughter echoed within the walls

of these abandoned rooms.

Sunrise painted days 

bloomed

but fell to violet dusk

as shades were drawn

doors were closed

and silence 

became the only sound

heard.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph by Marc Levy


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Words become gravestones

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Words become gravestones

To memories

A cemetery never visited

The flowers wilted upon the grave

Of forgotten love

Silence

A grey mist that saturates

Emotions sealed up

In a casket

Lined with what could have been’s

As muffled lamentations

Fill the air

:

©SirenSong1208 – 2017

Photograph by SirenSong1208


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The bluffs

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I run along the bluffs

laughing, looking back at you.

The wind rushes through my hair

and tugs at my clothes.

Your look is determined

as you close the distance.

The sea rolls and crashes just beyond my steps.

I am intoxicated by the scent

the power I sense

making me wild

making me bold.

The adrenaline is pumping through my veins

my nearness to you

pushing me into overdrive.

You catch me

we tumble to the ground

your mouth finding mine.

I close my eyes

losing myself

in how you feel

in how you taste.

I arch my body to yours

desperate to get closer

as you press your body to mine.

I feel you

hard

wanting me.

The kiss gathers heat

breaths and tongues mingled, tangled

a delicious union.

You start to peel my clothes from my body

slowly

oh so slowly

as your mouth marks mine

as favoured territory.

My mind is saturated with you

and this mindless need

echoed in the way you fit your body to mine.

Our clothes litter the ground

and my skin meets yours in a sensuous dance

you slip into me

the moment sublime

as the setting sun

slides into the sea.

:

©SirenSong1208 ~ 2016

Source:  White Noten

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How the night moves

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She loves how the night moves

How it curls itself

Around her

Softly caressing

The inky, velvety black darkness

So still

So quiet

Whisper soft

Allowing her thoughts

To rove and ramble

To be free

To breathe

:

*Written two years ago but I still adore the night, and how it moves.

©SirenSong1208

Photo taken from WhiteNoten