She rode the wind that danced upon the waves
Flaxen hair trailing out like the tendrils of an octopus
Sapphire eyes that shone as beacons to lost ships
And sparks shooting from her slight body
So many her whole body seemed to have a current of it’s very own making.
A hand in front of her pointing out to sea
Her fingers straight and commanding the very elements
Towards the shores an old man watches transfixed
As the beautiful maiden in the shimmering garment comes closer
He sighs as she reaches the surf line separating sea from sand
Sleepy now his head nods as a voice as smooth as liquid silver
Speaks to urge rest
He tries to fight like a child at bed time
Urgently she says ‘if you see me I cease to exist my friend ‘
Obediently his eyes close despite his minds protest
He wakes,  and she is nowhere to be seen.
Never finds out in waking hours who she was
But on the sand he hears a whispered ‘thank you ‘

©AilsaCawley Poetry 2015


Author: ailsacawley

I have written since I can remember, devouring the stories of Roald Dahl under the covers by torchlight. I have always loved fairy tales, myths and magic. A good deal of the things I write has some truth in it. Others, not. I’m pleased you dropped by, please feel free to leave me a comment or if you’re kind enough to share that’s fine. ☺️

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