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IN THE NIGHT TIDE

IN THE NIGHT TIDE

 

                         Phosphorescent waves

                      Shot with living lightning

                                Break.

                     Tiny dragons hiss in the foam

                         On moon soaked sand.

 

                              Two lovers

                             Hand in hand.

 

                            Midnight zephyr

                         Warm from summer sun

                          Caresses naked skin

                            Like his words;

                          Velvet on her ears.

                         Her hair a lunar halo

                            Or, is the glow

                            Because of him?

 

                              Two lovers

                         Barefoot in the sand.

 

                             A cliff face

                          Stark in starlight

                         Cuts across the beach

                      Meeting the ocean's reach;

                   A barrier to their seaside walk.

                           "Do you love me?"

                           Her words so soft

                        Nearly lost in the roar

                           Of surf on rocks.

                        "By that, do you mean,

                       Do I need to change you?"

                            A star twinkled

                              In his eye.

                        "Do you want to . . ."

                        He let the question end

                            On a look . . .

               English is not a language fit for lovers.

                         Her fingers answered,

                      Touching him like a breeze.

 

                              Two lovers

                               Touching

                    Touching ocean, touching land.

 

                        [read across and down]

 

             Lips                     In that moment

       Pressed together        Of knowingness and oblivion

       The cry of a gull             He knew himself

            Nipples                       To be

       Rubbing together        powerful, immortal, infinite

       The scent of sand                Potential

           And Brine                      To be

             Hands                  And to experience

 Moving in sensuous discovery              She

       The taste of her               Another being

      Sweet in his mouth                With love

 

                     His laughter broke the moment

                     As the ocean breaks on rocks.

                       Her smile reflecting more

                         Than mere moonlight;

                     His softness and his hardness

                             In her hand.

                           He picked her up

                         Laughter and giggles

                       Rebounding from the cliff

                         And covered them both

                       In the mercurial blanket

                           Of mother ocean.

                         Beings being beings,

                             Having bodies

                             Just for fun.

 

                              Two lovers

                            Living laughter

                        In the night tide . . .

 

                                     19 Feb 77

 


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