Oh my buoy spinning, take safety from my concert -

your blessed wink is all my dance craves

and the barnacle that I am

unto the land spokes when bashed

with Neptune's hands, I cannot go with you

and will always stand

touching a voice with a stream of gold

and eating fireworks with my eye.

Brave arching arms,

you cannot take my sons:

The epoch of sea and man

combing a floating horizon.

Every breath is home

and they flock

like an anchored love;

they still come to me

when all is lost.