Ecce Spanko -- Canto I

My ear perceives the whirring fan above.
The hours few, the darkness still. The sun
Remains below the lake in rest, in sleep.
Yet I again against my will awake.

What dream had I that sets my heart apace?
Which trouble takes my slumber, gives me fright?
A flutt'ring pulse, belabored breath. In sweat
I lay, my eyes agape, my soul unnerved.

I bend to rise, look to the hum, and feel
The air caress my hair invisibly.
Away from emptiness I turn, to her,
My sleeping belle, my warm and gentle love.

The dim and creeping light illumes her arm
As does the moon rebound along the dunes.
My fingers trace the lightened path to reach
A slowly sloping beach and woven sea.

My palm is taken by the swell and floats
To fall between the waves and comes to rest.
Caressed by calefaction from a spring.
My mind is lulled, in rapture I am calmed.

The waves now shine in locks astride her pout.
They throw the light across to seated me.
My eyes are locked on her, a marble glare.
My breath relaxed, my arms in comfort wait.

She stands afront my knees, her hands adjoined.
Her fingers fidget as she bites her lip.
The lip does quiver, trembling with her knees.
To these her eyes remain affixed in shame.

I take her hand and lift, my touch controls
Her moistened eyes, contriteness screams in stare.
A gentle tug extracts a whine and tear
As she succumbs and falls across my lap.

Her heavy breath, the sound of breaking waves.
The sea I see below, the tide at peak.
I am the moon, for whom the tide retreats
And splendidly reveals what lies beneath.

Appeased, I lay my hand upon the sand.
The stirring beach becomes serene, so soothed
By gentle touch, by strong and shading palm.
The windless air, the calm before the storm.