"The Poet's Corner..."

Under the Full Moon: 

Where He and I Loved First

Nicole Coonradt

The low tide lapped upon the shore

and I hard spent leaned on my oar 

as sand rasped on the hull

below and ached I to the core: 

No more could I then pull. 

So I lay back to rest a spell 

how long that was I cannot tell 

but watched the moon rise full

to gleam with tendrils silvery 

illuming here and there the sea 

as waves turned crystal rare; 

When came my Muse, a dew to me, 

descending from the air 

and touching gently at my brow 

that fancy might be stirred somehow 

with but a little care

And then emerging from the spray 

to rend the quiet of the bay 

I spied a watergod! 

His flowing hair in disarray 

dripped on his shoulders broad 

as water from his torso streamed 

I wondered then if I but dreamed 

and sat there wholly awed.

But dream or no this mythic wight 

who came to me that moonlit night 

to woo me with his song 

exceeded every dear delight 

and loved me till the dawn 

had chased the moon with rosy hues 

departing with my fickle Muse; 

Yet I‚ll remember long

that lovely vision and its trace 

remaining like a sweet embrace 

I feel though he has left 

returned again to watery place 

thus leaving me bereft 

to tend the memory I may keep 

and all the poesies I shall reap 

as I recount his theft.

For he my heart hath stolen fast 

to leave a hole where I shall cast 

a new one made of verse 

with secret rooms where love will last 

that I shall intersperse: 

each one with poignant metaphor 

to conjure up that magic shore 

where he and I loved first.

For Stephen Christopher Harris