Shades of Summer
Oh, to be in St. Ives to stand on imposing cliffs attending.
To gaze into a sunny day as turbulent myths resending.
To catch the white horses frolic upon the capping waves.
To watch the tide roll in, then pound the beach and hide in caves.
Follow shadows through canopied garden awaking to new scent.
Rest in shade while filtered light amid the garden gracefully bent.
Amble down the hillside through village on cobbled floor.
Then journey finally ending upon the golden shore.
Oh, to be in St. Ives to breathe the unspoiled air.
Perchance to linger or else live gently as an adopted heir.