Rising tide the sand was damp
by the winter shore, sea dark
and I feared sharks. Sea-gulls
circled overhead waited to eat
my eyes when I looked up and
cried my sorrow to the night.
Merry mermaids, dressed in
sealskin coats, sat on rocks busy
knitting a sea weed skirt for
king Neptune. “Look, a crying
old man, not a handsome prince”.
Walked and walked through a
landscape of grazing goats till
I came to a wooded gate where
a beautiful white mare neighed.
I opened the gate and the horse,
flew towards shore, harmonised
into a rolling mist, where dawn
glanced and my heart brimmed
with the joy of being a witness
to the birth of a new beginning.