The Hermit and the Mermaid
On an island rain kept wet and green
as a hermit lived he unseen,
until a mermaid flopped on the shore,
dropped to his knees, felt dazed, unsure.
Sat on a rock, among splashing foam,
brushed her hair with a coral comb.
“Hello, hairy hermit man,” she said.
“The waves up surge, the fish are fed.
“Now a rainbow in the sky is seen,
count the colours, red, blue and green.
Say no one should have a broken heart,
build a bridge, feel it fall apart.”
The hermit agreed, told her his truth.
He was a sailor in his youth,
till he floundered, ship wrecked on the shore,
watched the crabs at the seaweed gnaw.
“I feel on the mend so I must have been broken,
feel free of dream so I must have woken.
Why do I see you?” he asked her plain.
“What I have lost can I regain?”
She ceased her comb, turned and smiled at him,
swam off slow to the ocean brim.
The sun sploshed down like a purple plum.
He searched some more for salvaged rum.