Siren

 

The salt water lady from dark cavern comes

Seeking those lost in the sea

Singing and dancing, the tideline she runs

Sometimes you’ll hear the drub of her drums

She came for my father, she’ll come for my sons

And today she is calling to me

 

Slapfoot

 

Down by the river, deep under the ground

Lives a man that was lost long ago

He disappeared down, down, with never a sound

What his name was we never did know

 

For a hundred years, more, he’s lived hid away

Invisible, veiled from the light

Though never a glimpse do we see through the day

Ah, how we hear him at night

 

The slap of his feet, the sickest of moans

If a child should stray down after dusk

We know that he’d soon gnaw the meat from their bones

And leave nothing to find but a husk

 

His translucent skin, all pasty and white

And dripping with weed from the waters

Will creep up behind in the dark of the night

And take away all sons and daughters

 

Witches

(inspired by The Ash Tree, MR James)

 

Deep, deep inside dead Ash

Darkness squirms

Witches burned, transformed

Crawl out under full moon

Eight legs, venom filled

Stalk in vengeance

Plop like plump kittens

Onto your bed

Death is painful, revenge is sweet

 

About the Poet

She lives in Scotland, UK, and enjoys reading, writing and kayak fishing. Her life is filled with dogs and chickens, she grows vegetables and would be a hunter gatherer if the law allowed. She loves pickling, baking and eating. Her time is, mostly, my own and the sea inspires me.