Endless blue! Endless sea!
Oh! Fluid pulse of eternity.
Here I set my distant sight
on the full moon's guiding light.
Silken is the falling moon
her light gently cast above this place
Aoide's crumbling shrine,
I touch these stones and think of her
I tossed a love poem to the sea,
I told it swim, my words, I let you free.
They came to rest upon an isle's golden sand,
they declared not that they were written by my hand.
Night again came, I sailed that Viking boat
To Byzantium, the prize I vainly sought.
Oh! the storms they raged; sunny days were few
There is no escaping fate, this I always knew!
If in thy youth were made to find
poetry more fulfilled your mind
than machinations or the rest
consider your soul doubly blest.
That which loves unconditionally
is unconditionally loved.
If you believe yourself unloved
you have terms and conditions.
My muse demands study in all her ways to know
Risk the flames that bellow and cause the mind to glow
Then with heart afire and lettered in this pain
Truth and love's poetic voice surely will obtain.
Your hair draping down
the side of your face
established before my eyes
It is in what is small,
what is least about you,
what is recessed,
what is channeled
Of Guanche women; it was said,
adorned in jewels, fruits and palms;
'quite irresistible to their men.'
Known as a hardy race,