Tuesday 26 January 2010

ANCHORED AT WHIM

I lay an anchor and create a kingdom,
a glorious land where I am king and court.
A ring of shining shallows seals my borders.
No anarchist disturbs my tranquil thought.

Who's here to censure how I champ my sandwich
or how I slurp the coffee from my flask?
Where’s he, if I should sleep, would dare to wake me?
If I would dip for dabs whom need I ask?

The crabs below the boards, my only subjects,
hide from a sky more blue than royal blood.
This anchor cable is my Constitution.
The hook’s my Magna Carta of the mud.

This is my scepter'd isle, my other Eden,
my precious stone set in the silver sea.
Before it gets too late I'll abdicate
But while I'm here the whole world's ruled by me.

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