A Mermaid

She conjures quite a storm,
Sends up great waves to swarm the deck,
To drown the crew and wreck
Their ship and snap the neck of those
Not yet in their death throes.
As ev’ry sailor knows, a maid
Who dwells in ocean’s shade
Will lure them far from aid, from land,
And with bewitching hand,
She’ll toss them, sink them and destroy
The lives of man and boy,
So that she may employ their ship
As home, and she will strip
It bare, and then equip the thing
With ev’ry belonging
She likes; perhaps she’ll sing as she,
A maiden fair and free,
Hangs shells and all things sea, and weeds…
’Tis all a mermaid needs;
These are the very deeds that show
She owns the place, and so
All sea-dwellers will know that she,
This daughter of the sea,
Has claimed the ship to be her base,
Her private, wicked space,
Her stolen, murdered place of warm.

© A.R. Collins, 2014