Wrapped
engirdled on an unavailing shore,
The
cutis nudged with granular fleece;
Emanating
not point of origin or end,
Where
in circle selfsame doors meet.
Enclasped
in one with flares to shoot in sky,
The
Other deferring it with clouds to greet,
Unlatching
would commence the voyage,
But
charted paths wrapt deprecated streets.
Though
sulking nights passed many,
And
withered were some days & sea;
Yet
ebullience waft tides brought,
Reposed
granules, unswerving was breeze.
Treasure
was that unmapped shore,
Though
in circle but sequestered;
Quenched
the Flares kept status quo,
Tarried
until right ship descended; when heard :)