Gone are the tails,
the shimmering whales,
gone are the watery sheens,

absent are mermaids
and absent, her trade,
told 'neath the blue and green sea,

quiet are sea maps
and quiet are *****
that conduct and yell and keep time,

silenced are wet niches
and silenced are witches
that spellbind within the dark brine.

But on songs will twirl
in the soul of the girl
that coils the gold strands together,

and beat the drums will
with a pulse in the still
that holds in our young hearts forever.