I dedicate this poem to Claire-Louise, who always wanted me to write a poem for her.
And I could tear up mountains.
Free, I fly like a seagull.
Like a porpoise I could leap
spurting joy and white wet spray
to splash into a white-hearted turquoise wave, my brothers,
with a noise of exhilaration like the pounding of tribal drums.
Her body sways like palm trees;
her long hair soft and dark
as smoke from a volcano.
She smells of Frangipani
and all the hidden island flowers and fruits that bloom, my cousins.
Her skin is as brown as the rich earth where I till my sweet potatoes.
She holds me in slender arms,
like she was the coral reef
that stills the roaring ocean
green and white and full of rage
and turns it into a lagoon of blue serenity
where peaceful coloured fish dream and pretty shells shine like my
I could shout like a cyclone;
float like that blue butterfly
up to where the Gods all tread.
Yes!! and walk with them this day.
For I have a girl with eyes of wine and lips of honey.
The love we have created will stand as long as the islands she came
the sun shines in her quiet smile
but the moon shines in her eyes
and her face is dark like the night
—her thoughts hidden in the stars.
Then she is as unreachable as the hearts of oceans
and her secrets are kept like the black pearl is guarded in the shark’s lair.
© Archie Weller