Letters From Christine Poem by Gordon R Menzies

vast, and rarely still
the dark ocean of my heart
the many pebbled shores there
red surf splashing, hot,
I see you walking there still
neath that fleshy, moonless sky
starless, where blind things
swim and touch in the depths
sometimes I see you, shadowed
on the beaches there, looking,
looking for flotsam and jetsam
or perhaps dropping it there
for me to find
pressing delicate footprints
that pulse with every beat,
waving sadly to the odd ships
that sail there, with rare
dream cargos carried and
traded in the weird communities
clustered near the river mouths
oddly peopled, with faces
sometimes known and sometimes
not, trading basketfuls
of jewels that have the
look of your eyes in them
bound for Mind's Market
far away in colder lands
I own islands there, often
boat myself between them
where songs echo eerily
in many chambered caverns
sometimes I see you
swimming lovingly through
the swells there, warming
this deep nameless ocean
in your passing, touching
the chilly crests fondly
as a mother would a child
calming the angry waves
sometimes I see you there
wandering the shores
tossing stones that sing
throughout my blood
like sudden memory