A Surfer's Ode

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Never a dull moment in the lulls of Brandon Bay

When I’m floating, and the ocean, with an overwhelming calm

heralds sunset devotions, in the Lulls of Brandon Bay

from the sea gulls and the waves. 

For it is peeling wave, not peal of the church bells, 

that calls us to prayer, 

In the wait, 

In the calling,

Of the still evening air,

 

A deep silence will settle, 

over the Deep and Immense

and the spikes of dune grass 

Black silhouettes 

against 

a pink and rose and soft yellow hue

But the sea 

just for now

will remain

just for now

a dark silvery 

nameless blue


and, sailing just above, 

across the motionless flats, 

seagulls skim;

sleek bodies 

reflecting off black 

and red waters

from which

suddenly 

I am offered up a wave 

in the last forbidden traces 

of a glorious day

and I ride in alone

smiling inwardly, silently

and of the graceful Maharees, 

with their distant fall, rise, 

and fall again

the lights begin 

to flicker on 

Paying homage to the stars

Copyright © 2017 Ruth Wainman

Ruth WainmanComment