Trance of the Sceptical Sailor
I.
"Harp song on a Siren's breeze
will trap the flotsam mind",
(Legends told on raging seas
Are letters to the blind).
II.
"Living art by ragged coast,
This mistress of Neptune
Glimmers like a gorgeous ghost
And shimmers with the moon".
III.
Slender fingers stroked a string
And whispers licked the gloom,
Crowned with spray, the sailor king
Floundered towards his doom.
IV.
Red soles ripped on rusted rocks
And staggered with the shore,
Dazed eyes twitched like broken clocks
As seasalt stung the sore.
V.
Sharp claws scratched the captains' skin;
I mouthed a silent prayer.
Rags in ears, I turned to sin
And left him screaming there.
VI.
Some sailors will not listen
To tales from this "old crone",
Until they hear a kissing
Of Harpy's teeth on bone.