Sea roses forever
Sea purple or colour of roses as night falls,
picture the shadows salt-scented,
where summer swims in sweet water music.
Then the singing stops, becomes a pounding
in the head, and the whispering of imagined muses
is a blow beneath the belt.
I see the rocks beneath the satin surface
where old bitterness flows, the craggy
subterranean echoing with a distant cry.
I will arm myself with forests,
cloak my shoulders in diamond spray
and a thousand fallen stars.
I will not sleep
until the blue of serenity fills
the ocean-sky depths again.
Perhaps this was the message
in the wordless cry, not despair
but a call to arms, to run, to fly
and cast a soft shadow mantle
over the spreading stain of black and red,
sow the green of hope.