For the Atlantic

She had turned straw to silver
Made her own crown
And strode a field of buttercups
In a scarlet velvet gown.
I fell for her then
Without recognising
I was falling again.

She was full time at play
A sensitive vocation
Pointed the way
Over the style by the side of road
Into nature's creation.

She sipped at me
Delicate and careful
Not to leave her lips a gloss,
We talked of who she was
How I might be
I thought of how things lost
Are found
Looking over the valley
I know I'm older now.

When our words first danced
To the crescendo of young ideals
I was spoilt and cavalier
My words neon, indiscrete
And without ears
Our sentences, insensitive
Squashed each other's feet.
If I tripped then
I never called it falling.

So when we met again
Somewhere in my valleys
She didn't know me
So she claimed
Hid in innocence
Of ignorance, played
A merry game
And blamed semantics
Had some man
But for the Atlantic,
Her eyes
Charming even the sofa
I wouldn't know her
As one
Who I had fallen for
For days.

Long after I realised
We met amid hills
That rolled together as lovers
On over the horizon
I didn't recognise
Her who I once stumbled on
Not from the door
Where I admired
How she orchestrated harmonies
Made musicians
And called two tribes to unison.
Crowned, she shared
Then I knew her name.

When the games began
We played the wind
Between our bodies
Like an instrument
The Atlantic,
Her eyes explained
So we refused memory
To make instances of melody
And harmony with wind.

In the morning
We knew each other
High on the hills
Looked at the horizon together
As far as the Atlantic,
Her eyes saw
I knew she would never
Choose one who falls in love
As a lover,
It would create distance
As she would only rise
As a lover
And that when we meet again
We'll both pretend
We never recognised each other.