Noëlle, daughter of the Sand and Foam,
Form of mist and spirit of the sea,
I have dreamed that I have seen thee come
Beyond the waves in whispered words to me.
Thy hair as flowing free as windblown sand,
Thine eyes revealing me the ocean floor,
I have dreamed that I have held thy hand,
Yet still I know that I could love thee more.
I count the pebbles in my trembling hand
Of sunsets spent in thy less perfect arms.
I count the grains upon the gleaming sand
Of dawn-desires in thy perfect warm.
So I sit and dream beyond the sea
Until the day that thou appear to me. |
