Poetry Tuesday: Meeting at Night

This Robert Browning piece is for Angeline, who’s been lying on a beach in the Yucatan all day and probably enjoying a moonlit walk right now.

The gray sea and the long black land
And the yellow half moon large and low
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep.
As I gain the cove with pushing prow
And quench its speed in the slushy sand.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach,
Three fields to cross till a farm appears,
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each.

;o)

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