Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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Dark intention

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The night is good at keeping secrets

Wishful thoughts and lustful want

Confessed to the moon

By lovers out of reach

Proximity to touch forbidden

By circumstance

But in the haven of the midnight hour

Our dreams become laced

With a touch of sin

Every dark intention

Manifesting itself

With the silhouette

Of the one we yearn for

As we let our pent up

Burning desire

Run as wild as a mustang

Across the plains

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©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced

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The first face

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She was the first face I saw.

I fell in love

But didn’t know it.

Those hazel eyes gazing down at me

Soothing my abrupt entrance

Into a much colder world

Than the one I had existed in

For months.

I quickly came to realize

That she was my world.

Her beloved countenance

Changing over the years

But always

Full of love

Full of pride.

She has been

My teacher

My cheerleader

My taskmaster

My confidante.

Providing an example

Of what to strive for

Being supportive of the choices I made

Even ones that she knew would hurt me

Assuring me

That kindness doesn’t make one weak

And always making it clear

That the world was my oyster

That I alone could make my world

What I wished it to be.

I have been so lucky

To have had such a wonderful person

To guide my days

To know unconditional love and acceptance.

Recently I was reminded of a song

That was always hers and mine.

My mother

My friend.

You and me against the world.

A mother’s love

A sacred thing.

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*This is not the first nor even the second time I’ve posted this but on this day, the birthday of the most amazing and loving person that I know, I felt it fitting.

©SirenSong1208

Photo taken from Pinterest, unsourced


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A wild thrumming

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You inspire deep desire within me

My hunger for you

Ravenous

This ache vibrating

Across every inch of me

Humming audibly

A wild thrumming in my veins

Chanting

Yours

Yours

Yours.

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©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from SocialSurvival


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Our darkest desires

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It is in the inky darkness

Velvety soft and sensuous

That we give in

That we allow ourselves this freedom

This pleasure

Words that have caressed us

Through the day

That have fired our imaginings

That have made our pulses race

They feed our darkest desires

We lie

Separate

Tangled in sheets

Naked skin burning

The throb and ache of arousal

Maddening

Hands and fingers

Proxy for the other

As dreams become real

In the silence of the night

I feel you

And your need overtakes me

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©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Pinterest


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Sea Fever by John Masefield

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In honour of National Poetry Day, a sea themed poem by John Masefield

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I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,

And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea’s face and a grey dawn breaking.

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I must go gown to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

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I must go down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

(John Masefield, 1878-1967)

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Words by John Masefield

Voice by SirenSong1208


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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

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©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

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©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Pinterest