The Siren


I was bewitched.

Danced down the road

Across the bridge

Towards the hill.

And I was still

And listened to singing,

Glorious singing.

So beautiful I cried.

Tears blinding my eye.

Hughie and the violin had gone.

But I realised I was not alone.

A beautiful, ethereal, lady said

“You are mine now, as good as dead.

All your times are in my hand

You came when I called you to my land.

I am the Siren

You can never leave

So stay with me

And be my slave.”


This entry was posted in Poetry.

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