Or Tied to the Mast

You know the meaning of the paradise

Of love.  You sailed there with the ocean realm

Around it, deep.  You lost the map that eyes

Provided, Paul’s or Pearl’s.  The wheel and helm

Were yours—you thought.  Since heart sailed there before,

You should have known much better.  Still you sailed

Again.  You should have known the likely score

But sailed on anyhow.  Of course you failed

Because you got there once again.  Lips called

To you up on your captain’s platform where

The song of sirens has of course appalled

For eons echoing in mermaids’ hair.

  You know the meaning of that port.  You died

    There.  Now your sea songs want chords amplified.

~ Phillip Whidden