The Shell Maiden

I come from the rain of sky and sea,
caught on the web of a shoreline daisy,
braced low and spinning in carnival delight
with the kiss of Pacifica’s mist.

I come from the company of driftwood and seashells,
bleached white as a wedding train waiting to be worn.

The waves roll like a wedding march
announcing the union of land and deep blue dreams.
They bring a dowry of tangled vines and sand dollar spines,
and my heart says YES to this sailors treasure.

I come from the flutter of dry seaweed,
no longer rich with Oceana’s brine, and yet
adorning the beach with seafoam flare,
like rice and petals clinging to the foot of a runaway bride.

Bring me the delicacies of your wedding feast,
snapped up in the yellow of a jealous lover’s bill,
for I am treading softly here on honeymoon beds of ancient sand,
inscribing moon colored vows
on the framework
of whales.

Aimee Stewart April 2nd, 2009