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One fine Day: perhaps for J T Ellison

The sea lies millpond calm and still, obedient to the Goddess’ will.
She has decreed it must be so and thus the ocean far below.
Represses its own urgent needs and to the Goddess’ will accedes.
Its gleaming surface satin smooth. It has no choice to tell the truth
The mistress of both sea and sky.Sees no good reason to say why.
She chose serenity tonight; she rules the sea and has the right
to give instructions to sea which must obey immediately.
Sometimes she lets the breakers roar as they approach the rocky shore.
The daily tides which ebb and flow, she will allow to come and go.
Although there is no urgency she knows of their necessity
The high tide will sweep clean the beach and leave behind its furthest reach.
A tide line marked by oddities which have been carried on the seas
From here and there and everywhere. Jetsam which can be foul or fair. Beachcombers will explore to see what treasures they can take for free.
Though they prefer the aftermath of some fierce storm that shows the wrath of the ocean in angry mood. Because they have long understood.
The treasures which they hope to find, an angry sea will leave behind.
A tranquil night produces less of valuables that will impress.
The early birds who comb the beach above the high tides which can reach much further when theres been a storm and far exceed their usual norm.
Tomorrow morning they will find the sea has not left much behind.
But they will still search carefully because they think that there might be
some treasure they have missed before. When they have searched the sandy shore
Beach combers are a hopeful breed, they know one day they will succeed.
Grow rich beyond their wildest dreams their heads are full of madcap schemes
of what they’ll do as wealthy men but keep on searching until then.
It has been known before today that some beachcombers came away
with golden doubloons by the score which they discovered on the shore.
I do not claim this can’t be true. I think such finds are rare and few.
I have researched the evidence and find that most is sheer nonsense.
But local legends long endure although no one can say for sure.
That any treasure ship was wrecked along this coast but I suspect.
That it makes little difference, dreamers aren’t known for common sense.

8-Jan-09

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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