The Siren

She sang, she sang til' the edge of day,

Giving her voice to the sky,

The siren who lived on the bay.

.

From all when and where's people would say

"Whose is that voice so high?"

She sang, she sang, til' the edge of day.

.

She would sing, she would sing from June to May

For she knew not a fulfilling life

The siren who lived on the bay.

.

Her voice no others could imitate

Although numerous people would try.

She sang, she sang til' the edge of day.

.

To her songs, people would dance, sing, and be gay

And they'd search and search to never find

The siren who lived on the bay.

.

She would sing rain or shine, blue skies or grey

For her love of life was bone dry.

She sang, she sang til' the edge of day

The siren who lived on the bay.

.

A/N: no stealing, thanks! (I looooove mermaids/sirens. I think they're so cool! And this poem style is called a Villanelle (sp?)