Siren Whispers

Siren Song


Only one voice

‘This is not a funeral,’ she said,

‘though I’m drowning in carnations.’

There are no condolence cards

or whiskey toasts

to memory,

only the sad nod of head

as a story becomes too familiar to all

and an end that happened long ago

becomes the final chapter

in a story that was told

with only one voice.


©SirenSong1208 ~ 2018

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced




And like a wave born of a swell

Another year is upon us

Racing in to the shore

Pulling the remnants of the previous year away

To memory

We bid farewell to the old year

A time of growth and awareness

Joy and loss

A new year beckons

With the promises a new day brings

The tides turning

Presenting new opportunities

And possibilities

That we should grasp 

With both hands

Before they slip away

With the tides…



Watercolour art by Lia Melia


*May I extend my best wishes for a happy and healthy 2018 to all of you who find the time to read my words, who are generous with support and comments, who I am privileged to call friends. Happy New Year!





All along the undertow

I fought for breath

Every tug upon my senses

Pulling me back

Into your tide

The current strong

As strong as my will

My lungs filling

With the taste of memory

Burning with need

Until I surrendered

My thoughts

Struggling no more

Finding freedom

In the embrace

Of your waves


©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

“Siren’s last breath”

Photographer Steven Kowalski; Model Lauren Roth



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Betwixt and between


I find you

betwixt and between my thoughts, 

a marker in a book I wish to remember.

My eyes

lingering upon our page

as murmurs,

sweet upon my tongue,

become an invocation

of memory

without fail.


©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Pinterest





I remember days of such closeness,

when I could talk to you about anything.

You were my best friend.

The one I could trust above all others.

You always told it to me straight, 

never mincing words, 

but always being kind.

The message was always delivered 

with love.

You always knew, 

even without me saying, 

when something was wrong.

As I got older I kept my troubles to myself, 

telling you only after the fact, 

never wishing you to worry.

But now when I need your words most,

when I need the comfort that only a mother can bring,

you are drifting away from me,

your memory fading

your grasp on the here and now


and no matter how fast or hard I paddle

I cannot get any closer to you.

The fog is settling upon the water

and you are disappearing from view.


Photograph taken from Pinterest



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

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It was a moment suspended in time,

one she returned to again and again.

As brilliant as the brightest star

shining in her midnight sky,

it became an amaranthine memory,

neither waxing nor waning

as the moon

but perpetual as the ocean’s tides.

Her fingers traced its outline


the heat captured within

warming her


its colours remaining true

through time.




Image taken from Beautymothernature.tumblr