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Click hereacute pattern of ripples
chase schooner swift
of Port A cutting
to Port B with cargo
meant for draping,
wrapping,
cinching
pulling intimate to pier
Captain calls ahoy
to lay abouts
to fetch his dear,
for his fruits of
charm and anklets
silver beam will grace
her smooth and mound
flutes, hand drums and whistlers
follow her skirts
as she moves not
stepping but swanlike
to the wharf and her single
gift of ten fingered adore,
his bow is pert and lingers
her curtsy signals an hour
of gaze, full embrace
This poem was selected from Lit's archive of over 39,000 poems for inclusion in today's Archival Review.<br>
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