Of Balm, Lore, And Palm

Swimming off Hawaiian shores,
"Man-of-War" did sting me sore,
Maiden from the jungle palm
Stole to me with healing balm. Hands strummed on my rashes sore.
Sand, salt, sea and oil she bore,
Taught along her native shores;
Shy, and vanished in jungle more. I, alone with healing pores,
Specter-kind with feeling lore,
Maiden printed tracks to shore,
I'll bide these and ponder lore. Tides will wash her prints to palms,
I'll have memory for balm,
Of a day along the shores,
A maiden with healing balm.

by Walter Enyeart

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