Lament of the Siren

Over the rail I went, following, splashing, diving into the wondrous sea.  Alive with colors and creatures beset with mystery, longing, not long for the surface, bursting, splashing and she was there.  She was not a dream, not a wraith or dolphin in the sun but a siren of gold.  To my lips she pressed, as we sank into the quiet, the deep down and down.  Longing, much longer to the surface, bursting, now splashing.  She beckons me from below.  Descending, diving, deeper, deeper, her happiness in home, deeper, her longing.  Much longer, too long, bursting not splashing, the light overhead, now deeper and deeper.  Come to rest in her arms, that place of longing.  Once, just over the rail, forever lost, forever tossed amidst wind and sail is the young seaman.  Alone on the watch, longing for the lowing of a siren.  Over the rail, following, splashing, deeper and deeper, her tail a warning.  Lost, lost to longing, over the rail, over the rail, into the deep, into her arms, the sirens lament.