From the sea, she walks ashore, seal-skin slips
from her body–she stands now unadorned–
shimmering hair unbound and flowing,
dulse-laced and glowing, she whips
it ‘round like armor. Girded thus, the sea foresworn
yet she lingers, soul unsure, not quite captured
by the sunlight, body gleaming, hair sheened by salt-sea blowing,
directed then by lover’s shouts, she turns, enraptured.
But rapture does not last, not when the sea sighs and calls
in waves that beckon with infinite ebbs and flows
with subaqueous whispers from afar–
till finally, she must flee the confining walls,
let loose her hair and shed her clothes
to rush upon the sea-kissed sand,
fur-pelt in hand, she makes one wish upon a star,
and embraces the sea, abandons land.
For De’s prompt at dVerse on mermaids and selkies. I rewrote a poem I did a while ago for one of Jane’s prompts and added a second stanza. I kept the rhyme scheme, but didn’t quite follow the rest for a san san poem. So, here goes—no minimalism here, this one’s unabashedly romantic.