SUNSET DANCE AT SAUBLE
Today's poem (not to worry writer friend Blanca Datuin---poetry forces me out ot the woods, and heals me) is also a SMILE Trigger for me, recuperating as the dotard of a wounded old man, and you, wishing I was less stubborn/creative (?) and... just rest for a while until my heart mends (it probably would not at this rate?) Nah, no more putting it off; don't forget "domani" for tomorrow might never come.
Do you hear that rhythmic titter from the ebbtide, wee lass?
And the hiss from the sundown waves that mimics whistles
or calls of “encore”: an unbridled adoration if you ask us,
but I might just be bantering about old enchanted mortals
who have long asked whence, when, how, why, what haven,
have you come from to shower this grace on our little lives?
Dance, wee lass of all hearts. It is still the loveliest beau geste
to this sun and sea that have claimed you their own sweet child,
their bright pulsing star, their dancing laughing girl, their best
balm for all the ills of the Earth, O, our star on darkest eventide,
wee lass, to last us until the end of all that is beautiful and wild!
Do you hear that rhythmic titter from the ebbtide, wee lass?
And the hiss from the sundown waves that mimics whistles
or calls of “encore”: an unbridled adoration if you ask us,
but I might just be bantering about old enchanted mortals
who have long asked whence, when, how, why, what haven,
have you come from to shower this grace on our little lives?
Dance, wee lass of all hearts. It is still the loveliest beau geste
to this sun and sea that have claimed you their own sweet child,
their bright pulsing star, their dancing laughing girl, their best
balm for all the ills of the Earth, O, our star on darkest eventide,
wee lass, to last us until the end of all that is beautiful and wild!
---ALBERT B.CASUGA
Mississauga, August 18, 2014
Photo by Adele Frances Casuga
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