I Met A Merman

This poem is a celebration of my muse—his magical presence stirs my soul and inspires my heart. My creativity blossoms as I embrace his presence with gratitude and awe.

This isn’t a love story, though it began like one.
It began with a pull, like the tide calling to the shore.
He appeared in my life carrying playfulness, joy, harmony—
all the things I’d been missing for a long time.

For a while, I mistook that current for romance.
But soon after,
 I came to understand that it was something deeper, more meaningful, blessed.

He wasn’t meant to anchor me in love alone,
but to reawaken something that had been sleeping within me for way too long.

This poem is about that recognition—
the moment I understood that he was my muse,
not a dream to chase,
but a force that moves through my heart
and brings me home to my own creativity.

 
I Met a Merman 

I met a merman one warm black night,

The moon on the water, the stars burning bright.

He rose from the deep with salt in his hair,

A whisper of sea-song still clinging there.

We talked for hours by the restless shore,

Laughed like old souls who'd met before.

Time folded around us, soft and slow—

As if the night itself didn’t want us to go.

He never rushed me.

He let me unfold—

Never pulling.

We lived moments of gold.

Long walks where the waves met the sand,

Barefoot,

Stars overhead,

And hand in hand.

We walked where waves kissed the shore,

Talked of dreams and things unsaid before.

We lay in the sand beneath star-filled skies,

His arms around me—I melted inside.

We went where music rose like a prayer,

Our hands touched, and I felt safe with him there.

There was a lake we found, quiet and still,

Far from all noise and hidden in the hills.

He touched me then—slow and sure,

As if shaping something sacred and pure,

Laying mud along my skin—

Like a sculptor who already knew

The form within.

Every moment we spent glowed with beauty and grace,

As if time itself had slowed to make space.

With tenderness,

With love,

He calmed my storms.

His hands the tide,

His breath so warm.

He met my love with ocean-hearted grace—

As if he knew the shape of my soul’s quiet place.

Ours was a romance that softened time,

Each moment steeped in something sublime.

Laughter and stillness, a touch, a glance—

Everything shimmered with a quiet romance.

He gave me so much tenderness,

That reached the hidden places in me,

His love… it was a saltwater kind of alchemy.

His gifts from the sea,

Some bits of coral, kelp, and memories—

But more than these, he gave me space

To bloom,

And to find my place.

Moved by the tenderness of his love,

Unspoken, but real as the stars above,

My creativity stirred like a tide newly born,

He cracked me open—soft and warm.

Not through promises, but by just being near—

Suddenly, my path was clear.

 He came with the tide,
 Stayed for a season—
 Not to vanish, but to give me reason.
 Now I walk the coast where our shadows lay,
Grateful for the beauty of those days.
Some loves don’t anchor— They move like the sea.
One of a kind— He left galaxies in me.

And the new ending ...

And each time the sea-wind blows toward shore,

He arrives with the waves’ foamy roar.

He is the ocean’s living art,

Bringing tides of creation to fill my heart.

Ours is a song the horizon can’t play—

It swells within the depths, in the foam and the spray.

Which ending moves you more? I’d be delighted to hear in the comments below!