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Vladimir Yelin Mermaid in Love Chapter 3. Longing Wait The days flew by in work and care— Yet still her face stayed in his mind. Her golden hair, that ocean stare— He couldn’t leave it all behind. Her emerald eyes, her slender throat, Soft curves that lived in memory’s glow, Her lips so pale—this sea-born ghost Could stir desire from deep below. But most of all, her skin’s strange hue— Not like a fish, nor dolphin’s sheen. A rosy tone, so soft, so true, Like Botticelli’s painted dream. Her waist, so trim, so willow-thin, Lent her whole form a silent grace. At night he dreamed of her again— That summer girl with ocean’s face. He painted Isis on the frame, Then wandered deep through inward halls, To draw out details, name by name, That slipped away when beauty calls. What held him fast, he couldn’t say— What made this mermaid haunt his soul? Her voice inside him every day Still called him sweetly, made him whole.
Vladimir Yelin Mermaid in Love Chapter 3. Longing Wait The days flew by in work and care— Yet still her face stayed in his mind. Her golden hair, that ocean stare— He couldn’t leave it all behind. Her emerald eyes, her slender throat, Soft curves that lived in memory’s glow, Her lips so pale—this sea-born ghost Could stir desire from deep below. But most of all, her skin’s strange hue— Not like a fish, nor dolphin’s sheen. A rosy tone, so soft, so true, Like Botticelli’s painted dream. Her waist, so trim, so willow-thin, Lent her whole form a silent grace. At night he dreamed of her again— That summer girl with ocean’s face. He painted Isis on the frame, Then wandered deep through inward halls, To draw out details, name by name, That slipped away when beauty calls. What held him fast, he couldn’t say— What made this mermaid haunt his soul? Her voice inside him every day Still called him sweetly, made him whole.