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A Sailor's Meditation

Sad saline seas have swept me far
To isles below an unknown sun,
At dusk I mark a foreign star
That points to near oblivion.

I dream of ports, a sheltered bay
Far beyond this haunted sea,
Of lanes in mythic old Cathay,
Of girls I knew in Thessaly.

Of cities on the world's far edge
Girt round tall cliffs like mighty walls,
High palisades far ledge on ledge,
That rise like dreaming seneschals.

Of girls with hair of scented myrrh,
Whose beauty bred a rare esprit,
In glades of oak and conifer,
Pale girls I knew in Thessaly.

Of harlots on lost Corinth's malls
Whose hair so easily undone
Would sing me lovely madrigals,
Their lips sweet spiced with cinnamon.

Of triremes and their gilded oars,
That churned above the purple sea,
Of plundered temples, savage wars,
And girls I knew in Thessaly.

Of moments when I'd kiss her mouth
Upon a balmy summer shore,
With fragrant breezes from the south,
Oh, how I loved my paramour!

Of rivers where the monarch's barge
Is poled beneath a waterfall,
Of placid lakes whereon whose marge
I watched red dawns ethereal.

Of strange bazaars in distant ports,
Tall girls who'll be the death of me,
And where the playful orca sports,
And girls I knew in Thessaly.

Sad saline seas have swept me far
To isles below an unknown sun,
At dusk I mark a foreign star
That points to near oblivion.

Poetry by Achernar
Read 1084 times
Written on 2009-10-15 at 21:28