There once was an old maid who lived by the sea.
She summoned words from the waves, like Poseidon, the king.
With each splash on the shore, a tale would be spoken.
It was said when she spoke, dreams turned to pictures in the air,
and danced all about, likes leaves on a mid-autumn day.
Men came from far and wide to hear stories from this maid.
One day when her patrons gather around, she told of a maid
from a far distant town. Fair and young, she was a wife to the sea.
She swore a vow, to stay as pure as her love, for all of her days.
She captained her ship better than any man, even the kings
of the oceans who loved the sea long before she ever touched air!
When the Lords saw her past no words need to be spoken.
For the most noble of words were not as powerful, as the ones left unspoken.
Across the lands men spoke of her beauty in their traveling tales.
Though she gave them no notice, for she only cared for ocean air.
The world grew to know our fair maiden as the Lady of the Sea.
To our stories woe, there was a man who wish to be her king.
When the Lady of the sea, made harbor on one summer day.
The man and his host waited in the shadow, to make war that day.
Our lady, sorely outnumbered, made battle more fierce than ever before spoken.
As the sun begun to set, she yielded for her men and named that man her King.
On that blood bathed beach a wedding took place, to darken our tale.
And so with the rise of the moon came the rite of wedding night. Though the sea
never forgets any vows that was spoken in its air.
The lady woke from her slumber and went to breathe the salty sea air.
Yet she smelled nothing but the munade smell of day.
In panic, she ran with haste toward her true lover, the sea.
As she went to step into her water, her foot felt like fire! It was spoken
that the her cries could be heard around the sea, if we trust the tales.
The man who wanted her to call him King,
ran away from the lady and left her to her true King.
All around her, the pain she felt radiated into the air.
Her sea had forsaken her. Now all she had left was her tales.
Banished from the sea, to the end of her days!
Her only thing left, was the words spoken
from the sea.
Now our lady, tells tales by the sea, of days
when she left the words unspoken
when she was the Lady of the sea.
My first Sestina