A Sanctuary Sight. - Poem by Fay Slimm
I could take you, reader, to a quiet place
Where sea meets sand, in secret beachy cove,
And, sleeping there, a-sprawl in open spaces
Lie a hundred seals or more in silent drove.
The cliff-top watcher can but hardly count
Their numbers, random sleepy bulks below
Are motionless, until white pups, mounting
Mother's slippery back expose stained yellow
Underside and squeal with tiny lungs, crying
Out for milk. All this seen from distant top
Of perhaps two hundred feet. Flappers high
Some now are fighting, raise huge heads, then flop
Again to take more rest. This rare show, truly
Free and unexpected, leaves me gasping
In delight. What more exciting scene, blue
Sky ceiling, and sudden sky-lark asking
With a song, for early spring. The icing's
On my cake with this Sanctuary sighting.
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