A re-post with an additional stanza (6) just to keep my hand in.

(for Janine`s 21st)

 

Behind her was a width of land,
Before, a wider width of sea,
Between, a mile of flat, wet sand
Then a track foot-trod determinedly.

Until, skirt-tucked, flamingo-stanced,
She stood, delighted, chortling there,
While a million crinkling ripples danced
As the cheeky sea grinned back at her.

Bold-eyed, elemental, kin,
They haled each other, sight to sight,
Each the other drinking in
In a mutual exchange of light

Till–done–the parting. To the land,
Homing-ward, the long track trudging.
(All the way the jealous sand
Every single footstep grudging)

She: to fetch the light, the air,
The sea, to all the folk inland.
The sea: to break the news of her
Along the coasts of Ireland...

... Then Argentina, India, China,
Mozambique and Carolina,
(A flip to far Franz Joseph land)
And home again to Hoylake sands.

POSTSCRIPT

The moon that midnight, stealthily,
Would`ve drawn a furtive sheet of sea
And kept the secret selfishly.

But the poet, dafted with the sight,
Sat up and scribbled all the night
And turned it into poetry.