June Mooned Normandy - 0102 - For Annie Boudet
Near sand dunes gently rolling in June mooned Normandy,
on starlit strands went strolling salt scented, silvery,
while sightless eels swam shoaling, silk ribbons on the sea.
Soon midnight peals rang tolling to twelve from one, two, three,
till roosters rose, cock-crowing, we talked on tenderly.
Pine trees in gren groves growing most gnome-like seemed to me.
Brine breeze the billows blowing, froth-foaming fretfully
sent spent spray wavelets spewing, coast-combing ceaselessly,
‘neath tent-grey egrets mewing, ghosts roaming silently,
repined, our steps pursuing in restless jealousy.
(3 October 1975)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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