Clandestine And Furtive Magick
“Look towards the noon-time sea,
You’ll see a thing divine.
Hear the tunes upon the waves,
As the songs are soaked in brine.”
I muttered as the Sun did shine.
“I see the glist’ning waves below,
And birds above all grey.
What below, are secrets, still,
And avoid all touch with day? ”
She asked upon the bay.
“A secret, sure, until we know,
And then its magic will soon fade.
Leave them as a name of place,
An image we should not invade.”
I said beneath the creeping shade.