The Captain of 'The Mirage'

She stands between the forest and the sea,
drawn to the shore by dreams of her captain.
A goddess in a rough paradise, raw and unearthly,
so loud, so infinite, so incredible.
The wild surf crashes along the dangerous, beautiful coast.
Her lazy eyes scan the open horizon for the ship coming to port.
Her feet are caressed by the salty foam, comforting her.
An ocean breeze, scented with salt and his musk, grazes her lips, a remnant of his kiss.
She walks out onto the jetty, the rocks silvered by the moonlight,
wraps her shawl around her, his arms to warm her in the cold February air.

Through the hungry dark, waves seek to erode the shore
but it cannot cleave the link of heart and knowledge
that her captain senses her in the watery night.
Her yearning loins and burning desires reaching across
his mistress' body, so huge and engulfing.
Skipping upon huge swells to arrive sweetly on his lips,
indelibly inked in the stars that guide him.
The mistress yields to their lonely souls
A promise her currents will bring him home.
Homage to the bride-of-flesh and the captain,
the whispered vow below the screeching winds,
fills a shawl enshrouded sea-widow with peace.

She turns with a light heart, they have touched
through the veil of distance.
Her love is with her,
they are one on this rugged, wind-blown night.