Poems By Arjava

LOW-WATER-MARK of words is flooded past

Because the spring tide of the mind is there :

The ship of understanding veils her mast

With sail slow filling in the moonlit air.

My feet are on her boards ; it is no dream ;

Her captain's glance is given and reassures

My wavering ; beneath the zenithed gleam

Of that high moon I knew his eyes were yours.