THE POET & THE SEA –( Researched from Wikipedia)

The day’s course? - Out there somewhere.

From Sebutal at dawn

An eastern breeze licks leather backs

And by seven twenty they are gone.

Gulls complaining; carousel of wind, around the dipping spire

At home grey embers evidence the shell

Of unstoked fire.

In a window by the sea a vagrant poet writes

Reluctant for his whoring with his political constraints

Dressage is in such motions where a rapier pen is free

The satirist is on a roll, from just as far as he can see.

His half closed eye is on the day …

He mulls the wine ignores the bread ;

Ah wine - sharp words…more laughter

Their scorn ?  … a pillow for his head

Boxed and framed, porpoise- ponies dance for him

Far out his window in the morning light.

While sailors drag for fishes

Till they’re shanked and moored tonight.

The maiden flings a lacy sock

Which drapes his tankard square

And solicits his affections from the shadows

- over there.

Quite dis-appreciated, for his wit beyond the main

It’s Manual du Bocage;  the peoples flower in the rain

But life in its distractions with its intrigue or its guile

Will find his mast with billowed sail if only for a while.