SOUS LA MER
(The Siren's Song)
If your quiet
And very still
I'll let you lie
And listen
In these sheets
I hear the sea
Waves break clean
Call to me
But I will stay
And fool them
Lie and dream
For one more day
How they weep
With loneliness
Cold and clear
The words they say
Why I must leave
A promise made
But I will stay
And fool them
Lie and dream
For one more day
The Siren's song
Now lay their hands
Fingers long
Scratch like sand
Upon their breasts
Scallop shells
Held by lies
And little else
Coral beads
Wove in their hair
Far off reefs
Sous la mer
But I will stay
And fool them
Lie and dream
For one more day
Burrowing and Borrowing-
Starving but harvesting-
NOT quite charming but alarming-
Harming when storming-
More than a boring warning-
Performing and conforming-
Alluring the enduring-
Touring the reassuring-
Scurrying and worrying-
Working NOT twerking-
Twitching and itching-
Computer glitching when stitching-
Missing NOT dissing-
No hex
No mess
No sex
No stress
Wrestling with a nestled Texas style onion ring...
Castling the mastered haphazardly masked task...
Of a vaccinated infatuation ally rally for a new kitchen sink...
Getting pushed pass the brink by the former owner of a skating rink- because of drinking.
St. Maries de la Mer
Kate Sparks
April 9, 2026
Edited April 23, 2026
I walk the stone arc?of sacred remembrance.
At ancient Ra,?where salt marsh meets sea,?pilgrims remember?what the tide has known—?a boat without oars,?once found this safe harbor.?For forty days?and forty endless nights?we drifted unmoored.?Terns stitched the horizon,?sea to sky to shore.
Souls without anchor?wade into cold water,?strong hands guiding younger?to deeper currents,?their bodies tender,?their spirits trembling.?Sanderlings on the shore?scratch out a memory,?run, retreat,?enter again.
Waves that once pulled me under?now gentle at my feet.
Here I stand,
witness to a deeper awakening.
I'll adore you while we are floating afar from the shore.
I'll hold my own harbour gate open for that love of yours.
I'll shower you with all approaches of affection once we soar.
Dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer
I was dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer
when a young woman stopped me,
and said, “Madame, you are superbe.”
She told me twice, Madame you are superbe
But I didn’t feel superb.
Hadn’t for a long time, if ever at all.
How is superb supposed to feel
when you're dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer?
Later I visited my doctor to
ask if there was anything she could give for
treatment of the human condition; explain the
woman had told me I was superbe.
The doctor laughed, and said
there was nothing for it I could take,
apart from anti-depressants,
if you're depressed, are you, not superb?
She asked if I needed to take a break. Shall I sign you off, she said?
Maybe some time spent, alone in bed?
No, I said. She suggested I chose values,
acceptance, rebellion, indifference or hope.
I went away, bemused
realising there is no choice
to be made, you need all values
in your armour to face despair
when you’re dancing in Boulogne Sur mer.
The Sea pours laments
meanwhile Sweet hearts are salted
waves spray in whispers
Alone with fifty men six months at sea
torture, this womanless monotony
after lusty dreams
follow lurid schemes
curvaceous manatees look good to me
©8/1/2018
for –Sea Tales Limericks – Poetry Contest
seas equestrian
mare de mer with her stallion
leading charge to bear
18.04.14
Composed for Julia Ward's
Seahorses
Notes:
Cheval De Mer, horse of the sea, the literal French translation of Seahorse.
Chivalry and cavalry share the same root Medieval Latin caballarius meaning "horseman" or "knight".
The male seahorse has a brood pouch wherein he takes on the eggs from the female to fertilize and carry their offspring to term.
L’orgue de la mer - The Sea Organ
Née à l’horizon
Born on the horizon
où se meurt le soleil
where the sun dies
ses grandes vagues pleurent
her large waves weep
et s’écrasent sur les marches
and crash on the steps
où l’orgue de la mer chante
where the sea organ sings
le va et vient des marées
the coming and goings of her tides
plein d’accords mystérieux d’air et d’eau
filled with mysterious chords of air and water.
The Sea Organ is located in Zadar, Croatia. Below the steps you see in the above picture there's a system of tubes and a resonating cavity that turn the site into a musical instrument when the waves come crashing in.
sinking sinking Sinking Sinking SINKING SINKING
disappearing in the blackness, in the coldness, thinking
i can feel my fingertips dissolving, my feet are not quite real
there at the bottom is a sickly, comforting appeal
Soothing sliding silvered tides, fields of verdant; rolling co-inside..'
Beards of algae flow on wrecks, phosphorescence guilds the whitecap in flecks,
As a mirror shattered myriad shines, to uneven waves that crash in; times..'
Un-counted amounts of wash elapsed, endless etchings have surfs out; scratched..
I see the glimpses I hear that noise, in awe; I observe the power and poise,
Atlantic grey-green, Indian serge, pacific hued, I need to re-visit & become re-clued
The saline reeks, there are nets of fish, tootling tugs, low tide rippling in meek.'
Memories crowds... Of golden sands..' Ice cream, picnic baskets; beer and bands..'
COLLEVILLE SUR MER
In uneasy rest
He faces west.
They all face west to America -
So far away from this beach,
So very far out of reach.
He no longer feels the chinook
Nor the glance of mother’s knowing eye
Over the range on his Utah farm.
He is the son and brother
Of Omaha, Nebraska, and the Sandhills
Beckon him home.
Silence now
The tolling of the trolley
Car bell over the Bay.
Hear only the swish of beach sand.
He dreams endlessly
In the cold Channel breeze,
From the ocean
Between him and home.
......................................................
NOTES
Colleville sur Mer is where the American cemetery is located in France. All names on the gravestones face west.
Omaha and Utah are the names of invasion beaches on the Channel coast
of France where thousands of US soldiers died in 1944.
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