Frothed in pomp, the illimitable sea
spires in glad precipitance, upheaving
deep channels heaping, breakers restless free
as in my long thought, blazonries weaving.
Unrelenting processions, murmurings
satiate sand, fleece like sheathings of silk.
My notion to soar high, the wheeling gulls wings
while over my feet, an ocean rolls spilt.
Pinnacles with gannets midst azure steeps
send unfettered leewardings, passionate
eternal whisperings while the tide keeps
ebbing and heaping. Patiently I wait
for that sceptred horizon at day’s end
while night’s quiet luster glides in to mend.
