The old moon is tarnished
With smoke of the flood.
The dead leaves are varnished
With colour like blood.
A treacherous smiler
With teeth white as milk
A savage beguiler
In sheathings of silk.
The sea creeps to pillage,
She leaps on her prey;
A child of the village
Was murdered today.
She came up to meet him
In a smooth golden cloak,
She choked him and beat him
To death, for a joke.
Her bright locks were tangled,
She shouted for joy.
With one hand she strangled
A strong little boy.
Now in silence she lingers
Beside him all night
To wash her long fingers
In silvery light.
| Sailing Poems | Beach Music |