Jack and the Sea Maiden
The sea was rough and choppy,
The water swirled and churned,
Jack, a long time sailor,
Had reason to be concerned.
The weather changed expectantly,
With little warning at all,
Jack's small sail boat was tossed to and fro,
His CB radio useless for calls.
Jack rushed to pull the sails down,
For they were tattered and water logged,
He was suddenly knocked from his boat,
Beneath the sea his mind blurred and fogged.
Then came the peaceful singing,
A seductive siren's song,
Jack slowly opened his weary eyes,
Had he been beneath the deep sea long?
Was this the chime of Heaven?
So sweet, so warm, so Devine,
Jack began to except his fate,
Waiting for that great stairway to shine.
Then out of the darkness came a face of beauty,
A beauty rare and fine,
This could not be, Jack thought to himself,
Staring at features so kind.
Her hair was lengthy with great waves,
Her eyes glistened a piercing green,
Below her waist no legs were there,
A beautiful turquoise tail complimented this sea queen.
A red cloak adorned her shoulders,
A red cap upon her head,
Jack stared at her in complete amazement,
Thinking her angle and himself dead.
She wrapped her arms around him,
A heated lover's embrace,
They rose together to the surface,
The storm gone without a trace.
"Are you real?" Jack whispered,
His lips softly brushing her ear,
"What is real?" The creature asked.
Her voice so sweet to hear.
Jack was hoisted back into his boat,
By the strength of the lovely merrow,
His love for her had grown deep and strong,
He desired to remain with her in the sea below.
With an angelic smile, a flip of her tail,
And a hint of that sweet siren song,
The sea-maiden dipped beneath the blue waters,
In an instant she was gone.
Jack returned home safely,
Feeling desolate and alone,
He never really smiled again,
His face set cold as stone.
Years later the lonely sailor closed his eyes
And welcomed the eternal sleep,
His body was laid into the land,
But his soul returned to the beauty of the ocean deep.
Learn more about this author, Cheryl Loux.
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Magic
Twining slightly in my fingers
On the tips the occult lingers
The spell is wrought
The storm is not
Tingling softly
If sunshine were flowers,
I'd blossom your way,
And breeze you a kiss,
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If raindrops were perfume,
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OUR MAGIC
sing to me about what lasts forever
bring to me your favorite belongings
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the myriad of pulses,
like fireworks affixed to a
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