David Fiedler

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The Mist And The Mermaid

Mist appeared out of no where,
the clouds disappeared completely,
and befell me a mermaid from the oceans deep.
She came from a place far away,
Well beyond the stars.
Ursupia was what she spoke.
That is the name of a dock guardian who
Stands by the shore, even the shore
Of mankind waiting for men to entice
By a call to the beautiful mermaid.

Twelve of them there must have been for such a site…
Mermen, and women frivolous and privy with delight.
I shall build a boat, not to see a yacht.
For where he is poor, I am surely naught
And then if I were what would man be?
But sorrowful, and nothing… like a poor
And lonely tree.
So then arise I say and make it sure due,
That even a pence can see double on something new.
But there is a tale so rigid and strong,
That nothing is gotten by a poor mermaids song.

'I knew he would call me rich',
is all she said. But little would he see
the pleasance of dred - fit for a prince or
even his weight in gold marked with pure silver
that frightens the cold.
Say nothing of this chest, or say all of that
To some. A mermaid is merry just like the brilliant
Sun.
And how do we catch her? All the other boys would reply.
With willow or swiggles that even or I?
We'll cook her a stew, now that will surely do.
Or sing her a tune from something brand new.
Water they like so I am told - shivers and men we are
Out now by the cold!
For whatever you do, or whatever you say
Surely the mermen will keep record and say:
There ere on a night when they waken so bold,
To recover their seamen who have taken their hold.

In time just so merry, or time just so fraught -
By muses of plenty and mermaids of naught.

And said to naught I saw her still - that courageous
Yacht with marks of his will. And night doth it part,
Or hasn't it yet. That heavyset fog full of ladies regret.
I can't help but warn while seeing one still.
A Yacht or a woman, I am yet a thrill!
For spirit is true when truer are the words
Of men who seek mermaids through mysterious fog.

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