* * * * * * * *
These be nymphs I see. What sly wizardry,
To rapture me down to the bottom of the sea.
Adrift in narcotic waves, I reply
To all glad tidings with a supple sway.
This way, that! Pliant, I parade, a comely crowd‘s
Candy willow. Star-wide eyes, how lustrous their appraisal.
We have beheld the merworld and called it good.
And you, finny friend, I’ve found you on the floor:
Now squiggle and gasp all you like, you won’t come
Up for air, not till you’re hooked! Think of dry
Days, yesterday, when you sat in my pantry,
Sea-green secrets concealed in sweats sitting in dust.
And I, a nereid come to rust, bookish barnacles–
Spectacles, landlubbers them call?– where coral
Should glance. So far flung from ocean’s trance,
Docked in domestic shoals, a bone-dry bore. Breasts berthed
In a scalloped demi cup, cherry tresses corked
Round one negligent digit, you had some notion
To sweep me out to sea-sway motion. Brain brimming
With naughty intention, nymph, you– you siren
Of the sheerest seas, what a lure you cast!
Steady rollers now, beats breaking o’er our heads, we foam
Like cream on the spotless sands, electric glowswims,
Sexy priests of this ecstatic scene. Oh, marine
Living! Never again shall I be beached.
I am for wet ways, wanders and wonders,
The splash and splay of eternal tides. Touch me, bitch!
What way you wave me, I’ll go. Surge and swell,
Hours of amaze, till the clock breaks its head.
The old age is dead, and I’m your’s, sea-belle.
