Lost and Foggy Blues

As lost and foggy is to sailor eyes so is the siren’s call to sailor hearts. Though one should know enough to realize that nymphs appeal to other sailor parts. A sailor’s vessel wanders off the chart but he ignores the risk. Does the allure, the magnet of desire recall Descartes; “I think, therefore I am.” Or, does the cure encapsulate the illness; infinite azure. The sirens of the infinite azure lay low beneath the heavens, wonder laced in beauty that the eye could scarce endure; in memory that time has not erased. The moments of forever, so embraced are embers dim in winters waning light, aglow beneath the conscious. Markers placed that they may be forever called to sight; celebrated memories-- yesterdays delight. © 2006 W.D.Neighbors