A young vivacious lady sat and combed her soft blonde hair

ignoring all around her -

breasts on proud display.

I passed her by admiringly, walking along the strand.

I’d been so long at sea before my craft had landed there.

She caught me with her piercing eye

as I stood starstruck passing by,

and by the twilight's fading light

I knew she was no mortal sort;

I saw she was a water sprite that sat there by the shore.

 

I stood and gazed an hour (or more) into her glistening eye,

not caring what time it was,

entranced, stupefied,

understanding mysteries that all the years were hid from me,

esoterically divined and, there, revealed to me by this lorelei.

she spoke “Why don’t you come with me,

somewhere between the sky and sea,

to the place you’ve always dreamt about?”

“Where?” I asked. But her face betrayed

a smile quite prurient, a smile that I had never seen before

 

“I think you know the place I mean, the place you used to seek -

you who have so much to give -

there you can give them ;

and promise me things I know aren’t real (like boots

made from the skins of fishes) and I can take you there.”

“Where?” “Nowhere” she answered me

 still fixing me with her bright eye,

that shone and shone like one

reflecting the yellow setting sun.

“Nowhere,” she said, “and everywhere; between the sea and sky!”

 

But I had been at sea too long and had learned the wanderers ways.

Of course, I felt her magic -  

even felt some desires.

I sighed long, bored and weary “yeah -can do - I’m not arsed,

for I have been at sea too long and learnt the wanderers ways;

known to the lonely, and the alone

who have abandoned hope at sea,

forgot the places they dreamed of

and learnt to do things on their own.”

The young vivacious lady still sits, combing her blonde hair.