Photo by Matheo JBT on Unsplash
Oh,
Down the dunes I roved; in tow
The heady scent of petals, grow
Under the steady sun; Below
The sand wore ever on!
And
To my first mate’s credit, she
Worked the crew to a right frenzy!
When down the rime-caked shore did we
Find there my bonny lad!
‘Twas
Five nights from the wedding morn!
His hair braided thick,
Beard close-shorn!
A coral rose did his breast adorn,
And so we hauled ashore!
“Cheer!”
Cried my first mate; Up went the flags!
“Get those tents up, you Scallywags!”
My bonny lad crouched low
As I opened bags
Of flowers fair
“Ah!”
Came his gasp, hands delving down
To grasp at the hidden, woven crown
“For me, O Captain?”
He giggled at my frown
And my cheeks did grow ever rosy
“Tonight!”
Said I to my crew and love,
Brow sweaty, chest heaving under hot sun above,
“When all’s cool shade
We’ll sing thereof!”
So I kissed my husband-to-be
Down!
Went the Sun!
Up!
Came the Moon!
‘Round!
Went the casks
From Berries of June!
Up!
Came the lights!
Down!
With propriety!
‘Round!
Went my lover
Red with night’s gaiety!
Days
Of hot sand; winds carving our skin
Voices hoarse from shouting over the din;
Weeks out from our port
Did we finally win
My bonny lad’s fair heart
Danced,
Did my crew, my first mate and my heart!
Had I spent near one more month apart
From those lips, hips and cheeks
To and fro my eyes dart!
I’d have pitched into desert bluffs!
When
The week’s end was fast upon us
The crew and first mate gave no fuss
They set up the arch
And held every cuss
As my fiance’s family arrived
Next
To our boat, their ship seemed too rich;
A silver swan’s head on its prow, which
To my Captain’s eye did pitch
That his family’s wealth was sublime
“Captain,”
Spoke the cool wind from his mother’s tongue,
As if it were a cannon; from which she flung
The cruelest of barb:
“You are a Mung.
But my boy loves you, so…”
His
Father gave cheers to my first mate and crew;
From his days on the sand seas, most he knew,
And his wife’s jabs meant little as his smile grew
And he embraced me as his own
Out!
Came the silver!
In!
Went the food!
Over!
And over,
‘Til stomachs did brood!
In!
Came the flowers!
Out!
Went the calls!
Over!
The cliffs,
The hills and the walls
That
My husband-to-be
Was my husband to me
And his family tree
Now kept roots with mine
Out
On the sands
Went my crew, first mate and all
At the prow stood my lover
Dressed for the Fall
I stood at the wheel
Dressed in wedding shawl
And the sands wore ever on
Down!
Came the sails
Up!
Went the cries
‘Round!
Passed the
kegs of wine!
Out!
Went we; hence
In!
Sandy Seas!
Over!
The bounding!
Dunes!
Wandering Perspectives 