Looking For Monsters Poem by Thomas James Martin

Alltsaigh, Loch Ness - the Scotch Highlands


I made a pact with you near water's edge:
Before the campers came, I would remove The drawings on the hostel's kitchen walls
In which you are a few sad and patient tires

Half in some blued-out lake with dragon face So patently fading to public white. You said you would never come back up To startle us again or find disgrace… So you said going black under blue; I knew you would be back.

Sailing these spindrift waters
Diving the bone-deep depths and taunting us
Across the waves with your rippling spines,
And flair for bumbling melodrama.

Therefore, I have kept my watch
And evenings, a blue sword in darkness,
I look downward and slip off into the night