Alone in time, she stands,
moving in and among,
wandering in the masses
her solemn gaze spies none.
She's searching for that someone
who will warm her like the sun.
On the lonely shore, he stands,
tide waters ebb and flow,
deep within his heart,
the lonely wail grows.
He's at home among the elements,
and so very much alone.
From craggy mountain peeks
where Eagles soar alone,
to valleys where she's delved,
under river rock and foam
in her heart, the Circe cries,
sailor,
come,
I will be your home.
Deep within his heart, he hears,
the siren call his name,
beckoning, tempting, drawing out,
the yearning and the pain,
taunting the mariner onward,
in hope of what he'll gain.
High upon the cliff, she stands,
far gazing out to sea
and spies winged sails of the ship,
she sings to in her dreams.
There he stands upon the bow,
the sailor, his ship and sea.
"Take my hand, oh lady faire
and weave our hearts entwined."
He took her hand and touched her soul,
her body and her mind.
This simple mariner of the sea
and the Circe's song sublime.
© 2000 Calista Cates-Stanturf.
All rights reserved
