by Natalee Caple
They Will Take My Island
They trundle in before it is light
And for the sake of sweet idleness will
Take pillows and make from the shadows those boats
That float to me by sandbars of dreaming my
Island of kisses and waves like the banners they
Make out of flowers and this is my
Island my life now I sail towards the flower of their
Wills I dream the aromas of paint and of clay
And
We become one
All my past
That young body that yearned around
Spikes of hard longing it
Sings
And it sings
