Sea Siren's soul, inside the winds beholds
noctilucent's her call to assuage,
from aural mists his solitude enfolds,
becomes his route in brines and home berthage.
In gleam she stands behind the wooden gates,
that lead to heavens' halls infinite tropes,
becomes the whisper of time's solemn fates,
with modest voice recites his mind's scopes.
The dusky mists envisioned his story,
the first Invernal snow and scenic sense,
an epigraph on slate in locked quarry,
his seventh 'fore begotten wisdom thence.
Because the stars opalescent will shine,
on paths of odds to promise his return,
forgotten siren's songs of morns define,
in bad weathers to become his smiled yearn.
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Comments about this poem (Seventh by Giorgio Venetopoulos )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
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I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
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