The Sea. Composed 1 April, 2011, with a fleeting image before myine eye which was prcipitated by a poem read to me on a fine evening by a fine friend.

The sea is like a blanket on the white sea shore

Like a blue sheet on a mistress who will sigh no more.

The waves flow back and forth upon her pure white breast

As the sun, her murderer, reaches to stroke her chest.

The seafoam forms a zone of white to beautify

Her silent form, and cover it against the sky,

But can it ever stop the prying gaze

Of an onlooker, apart, who stops to stare, amazed