Lagoonery

I need a title.

I know a place far away from here

Where the sky meets the sand and the sea

And where swirling tents and jubilant fairs

Are cradled by the breeze.

 

The fronds that flutter in the day

List in languid leisure,

And the airy reeds and grasses sway

In liquid, joyous measure.

 

When once I lay upon this shore,

White with opal matte, I saw it

Stretched a thousand miles or more

So empty, vast, and flat.

And so I thought, in my largess,

Teased by salt and foam

That where I lay, free from duress,

Was a warm and welcome home.

I saw a stone snug in the sands:

A single drop of sea

Among worlds made long ago

Ingrained infinity

 

I rose. The earthen veil that kissed

My face was barren as was placid, so

I breathed its chalky, brazen base

So cold and raw and ragged.

 

I know that coast is smoother now:

A white and weary bay

Where creatures crawl among the rocks

Now that the leaves have all blown away.

 

And so I tread among the worms

Who shift where trees once stood

And trace old footprints through the ferns

Where twenty entwined toes had blurred.

Author's Note

I need a title. And I might be drunk.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

Actually, it was the title that drew me. They can be a problem, of course, and the success of a piece of writing can be significantly affected by a good or bad title. As for your poem, I enjoyed it very much, as it contains some pleasing lines and elements.