maybe a mermaid will come,
beguiling and sweet,
from that better world
I used to touch, in innocence and dream.
Hair black with a golden comb,
a song of soft delight on her lips,
eyes that show of something more,
something we knew when were young.
To see her break through silver waters,
her golden tale coiled beneath her,
to hear bittersweet song,
to know there are such things.
The summer sun is warm,
the sky a circle of blue in this grotto,
and there is a gentleness in the breeze.
Maybe a mermaid will come.