Mid Atlantic Dancing Poem by Terence Murphy

In the early hours I make my visit to lift her from slumber
Two reasonable people long run past youth's sanctioned madness
Where would we two meet but in the middle of our geographic
Inconvenient, distance, where surrounded by Atlantic grey,
Waves In the night's middle dark, unknown even to her
She move's when I lift her spirit as she restless shifts
and partner her in transparent arms and finally, wanted dance,
Her leaping toes touching twelve foot breakers, skirts
Swirling brushing flying fish, alone but for a distant ship Searchlight
Halfway between new world and old picking out her eyes and laughter
I with my traditions courtesy always make sure she is safe home
And dry before she wake's, stretching and yawning for the day ahead
Wondering at the dream fading kelp and salt between her toes.