Charleston Merman

We were vacationing in the state of palm trees and seashore in September's mild loveliness. Me, a sexagenarian widow, hobbled by arthritis in my knees. As my family enjoyed the surf, I sat contented on a creaking wooden pier, taking in the salted breeze tossing my gray hair. I heard the seawater beneath me ripple, then a splash, and a masculine, "Hello," there in the mossy colored brine was he. His long brunette hair flecked with sun kissed gold, it was entwined with tiny conch shells. His build of brawn and burnished skin, eyes of an amber hue. Handsome in oceanic resplendence- I then realized he was a merman! As his iridescent lower body of sapphire scales and magnificent fins swirled in the foaming waters, I thought what would such a youthful merman want with an elderly woman like me, when there were younger women bringing their charms to the sea? He spoke again, and I was mesmerized, "You were once a maiden, a strong swimmer of the waves," he mysteriously smiled, "King Poseidon remembers his people of the deep, although you are aged and infirm, your soul is of the aqueous realm, and know this message I give to you today, while you sleep neath the late summer moonlight tonight, we merpeople love you for your caring of our vast oceans and their life." He reached out his strong hand momentarily, and placed a perfect pink pearl into my outstretched hand. His eyes so captivating that I never wanted to stop gazing into them. As he softly bid me a farewell, his fins slapped the waters, as waiting dolphins leapt in happy unison, and he disappeared beyond the edge of the pier. Charleston Merman, I'll never forget you, a sweet nautical memory, as the perfect pink pearl is displayed on white velvet on my nightstand. ~