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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Staying Out of Reach-The Siren’s Story She was a fish out of water, only in the metaphorical sense, for the sea was her song and her home, where she played, where she laid her head, and where she was taught to bite with the most melodic twang, but she loved humanity, and her sisters hated her most excellent voice. They longed to steal it, but it was sealed upon her lips, protected by water nymphs, forever elated. So, Lydia, stayed away from ships and her murderous sisters. Her hymn, so poisonous but sublime, poured out like wine upon the salty waters. The great tug and pull of water seemed to work its magic, as it changed tension, oscillation and vibrato. “Bravo!” the waves clapped. At nightfall, she felt a strong undertow, a manned ship. With a faroff glance, she could see the muscular and tanned crew coming her way. They found her somehow in the deepest sea, supposedly lost to humanity, where Atlantis is submerged. Lydia lies on her back, stretches her arms to the air, succumbs to the wind and the brutal rain, training her voice upwards, very high. “The stars beckoned her song to reach the crescent moon.” Her arms become angel wings, white and light; a dove. She sings gently, but immersed, believing that she can reach the heights of heaven and be blessed with broken shackles. Her seashells drop, a maddening medley of updraft is caught. The moon, like a lover, grabbed her hand, welcomed her aboard. “Why, she wondered, was she born a siren…” The brilliant stars surrounded her, a siren who was tested to her heart’s content. She was at peace, as she was spent. Each luminary kissed her on the hand or lips or cheek. Her voice stayed sweet, but it was now heavenly and safe from vicious attacks of her sisters, and of herself. Handsome men in fair seas. They smile and cheer the unchartered waters; star-studded skies.
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