Monday, August 3, 2009


Over a century has passed since then
When whaling fleets would roam
She first appeared at starboard bow
Amidst the brine and foam
She could not speak our language
But let out shrill like squeals
Reminding me of life on the Pribilofs
Amongst the many seals
Her vain attempts to warn us
Impending storms beyond
Far off over our horizon crest
This strange yet human bond
Eyes were fixed upon her
None had seen the like
Of anything with such beauty
Moonbeams upon her strike
Slender hands of glistening silver
Large wide eyes of deepest green
Our eyes met briefly before the tempest
I thought her to be tween
Skies turned black within the calm
I held her stare within my palm
Rolling waves lashed out with force
Dashing upon our struggling ship
Consumed within the storm
Within its mighty grip
All hands went down that day
Save myself and one other mate
Grappling with the capsized dinghy
Hoping to change our fate
Yet the maiden of the sea
Who risked her life for ours
I scanned the endless sea before me
What seemed like countless hours
Her haunting eyes pierced me
Yonder an island ahead
With no sexton in use that night
Unknown to all I'd dread
Upon the island in its wake
I spied a motionless frame
It was the maiden of the sea
Upon the rocks we came
Then she was within my grasp
Soon resting in my arms
A deep gash upon her temple
Riveted with her charms
We soon found camp in solid caves
I feared would be our final graves
Strewn about was scattered wood
Flickering flames that calmed our shivers
Down to marrow in our bones
But thankful unto He who delivers
The warming sun was hidden
There we slept for what seemed days
Gathering our thought as I tended to her
Studying her peculiar ways
We kept her skin moist with our shirts
Watching over her day and night
Feeding her fish we ground to meal
Her movements ever so slight
A century has passed since then
Her health improved with time
I carried her back to the waiting sea
Her eyes affixed upon me
Most of our sunken ships provisions
Had landed upon our shore
My ships mate now long gone
In days of yester yore
As for myself It seems
I haven't aged a day
Gathering from my inner thoughts
It must be from the way
She still brings me strange green kelps
Of which I make a stew
Each day I wake from my slumber feels like anew
She sings to me-my only friend
Yet we have love in our hearts
Wherein can we make our nest
Amidst the waves
Or upon land
Therein the divide which parts

© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved