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High Tide Returns

Once he sailed the fast Clipper of his heart
A mariner over blessed waves
Once on a fathom sea of womanhood
He drew water 
To each compass point in her eyes
His sails were prayers 
Laid in every pale crest and trough    
The wind an alter 
Where he stowed every breath and thought of love
The sea and canvass he was  
As he sailed the schooner of his heart 
At high tide

And pulled by the rolling breakers
And lured by the soft gentle sands
For The Sirens song
He braved the ragged teeth of the waters
Came to where the masts and rigging 
Seduced his ship beaching
On easy and conciliate sands
The keel of his soul ran aground

Marooned now amidst angry rocks
Winter storms consuming the dunes
Of love
Stuck fast the once kissing prow
Trapped to scavenge the wrecks of hearts
High tide is an echo 
Has not returned yet
To slip the schooner from the drifts

A beachcomber to weather the blizzard 
Waiting for the days to be warmer
This icy wind must someday cease in its bite
Hidden behind his tiny fire light
The sea she has bought him the driftwood of love
To warm the desolate nights

He can hear the new surf calling
Telling of gentler deeps ahead
Soon the heavy keel shall lift from this subtle trap 
Then the moon may grant him high flood
And rest the rudder from her hands
Turn from the compass of her eyes
Set sails to another 
To where an ocean resides

Even now he can hear her calling
Within the waves and the crests of this shore
Already the canvas is dreaming
Of catching another wind and billowing
So his heart will guide them once more

Say no farewell to these rocks and these crags
Where she bid him suck on these barnacled reefs before
He will not miss the soft gentle sands 
He never had
And to this sad and cold beech 
Where she once led his ship
Shall return never more
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