Ahhh... a little Sunday afternoon whimsy, owing much to Pirates Of The Caribbean 3 and many apologies to U2! :)) K xx

HURRICANE GRACE


You know her as
The Dancer,
aware only of her
sinuous moves,
her diaphanous form,
never resting;
bridging the world
in the poised arc of her soul,
taking the strain,
carrying the pain;
disarming the poisoned tongue:
no malice in her chalice;
no bone is broken
by her lips.
The world heals through
rotating curves of her hips;
she slips through chains
and rusted bars,
calls them liars.

Hers the name
of the ship,
the figurehead
at the prow,
the Now;
the colours nailed
to the mast
with no avast –
for, should her
breath be stilled,
there’ll be no torchlight
left to row by.