Sea Fantasy

In search of a sailor’s fantasy

I hoisted the sail on my clipper ship dory

And put out to sea,

As I waved  farewell to an old weathered lighthouse,

It blessed my voyage with its blinking goodbye.

Beyond reef and shoal,

the ocean cradled dory leaned long

in dunes of wind

Moon stories high.

Until reaching my rendevouz

I met all the creatures of the fathom blue.

From wave to wave,

With grand jetes of sun dappled grey dolphins,

My seascape was graced.

My seascape was graced.

The best of all,

The all-mouth and teeth.

To hide his all-mouth

His head began to sprout,

And with this camouflage of trees,

The All-Mouth caught all the fish he pleased

And with porpoise leaping more than man,

I sailed on to celebrate my sea green days.

Leeward of uncharted islands,

Lightning struck of man’s design,

Where on sea wings,

Past architecture,

A cabot’s tern arched magnificent,

Pointing me to a secret cove

Of salt blown splintered tears,

Where with cheek soft embrace,

On ripe-plume thighs,

A sea-snake danced with an eagle mate,

And they feather bloomed into flight.

Then on down the fair wind,

With full bellied sail,

Through foam crested billows,

Drove the dory.

Until off my bow rose scores of flying fish,

Defiant of the earth they soared,

Until my foredeck

With magical patterns was crisscrossed.

But I,

Enchanted beyond all restraint,

Reaching and grasping,

Seized one of the fathom-blue sea deep creatures.

But in that moment,

Came sudden and quiet,

A strange calm.

And with the wind melting into the haze, I,

With sagged and drooped sail

Drifted on.

But brief was my respite,

For in the sky a forked light,

The frightful thunder following,

Struck to reveal

A host of fierce faced clouds,

Racing to obscure the sun.

From the Northeast,

Swooping down to thrash and flay the sea,

Was a wild tide of wind,

That pushed waves to perilous heights,

Where teetered the dory,

Before scudding down the moiling troughs.

With terrapin patience,

I clung to the dory of myself,

Until in the wake of whirling williwaws

My little ship yawed,

As though daemon-driven.

And I was shipwrecked

Before the mast of my own lonliness,

Before the mast of my own lonliness.