Harbour on a Summer Afternoon


The sun beyond the line of ships

Burnishes the strait to brass, to glass;

Blues the close in parts along the sand

Where children play;

Light across the flooding tide 

diamonds a million ripples, here and gone;

such beauty insists upon the eye

Confounds the mind, aches my heart,

with the exquisite tang

Of life's transient bitter, sweet mystique.

 © Philip Knight 2018