The Maker The Charles Causley Literary Blog
Young Person’s Competition: Siren by Violet Wan
‘You could hear the sea from here. You might imagine, in the winter, it would creep up on to those green lawns and threaten the house itself…’ Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier
The sea, She calls me siren-spell. I won’t go, You know I won’t be one of Your water-logged corpses She’s not listening, of course She never listens She laps at my ankles singing, singing life-infested, death infused. She loves me, you see, She wants me buried down under. Yes, with Your crushed stars, crushed ships, crushed sailors, I know them all, Godforsaken spectres, they don’t love You, not as I do, damn it I will not go to Her but oh can you hear Her lachrymose souls they are singing from the depths Her waves at my waist…