When our eyes first met, my love, we
Heralded a mystical epic of concealed love,
Courage and sacrifice, rejoicing tears
Warm as summer dawn, bright as snow-
Crested mountains, stolen moments
Secreted from our Viking lords, who
Held us in abject servitude, child-bearers,
Subject to male depravities, drunkenness,
In triumphed agonies, we endured slavish
Violations, living lies, for stolen Sapphic
Moments in sylvan forests deep, on
Secluded moon-paled shores, or gathering
Berries, weaving woolen cloth, feigned
Excuses to escape unsuspected, beholding
Loving eye-lights, glowing hearth-fires.
We savored love’s honeyed nectar, humbled
Sighs amongst tremulous delights.
At times fate dealt us a thorny pathway, to
Awaken as cousins in a desolate Newfoundland
Lifetime, an isolated fishing station, where
Our amorous female desires were subject to
Condemning eyes of our masters and summer
Months gutting and drying tonnes of cod.
Yet, on free days we explored splendorous
Love denied in quiet sanctuary of tree-lined
Inlets and brimming woodland streams.
Transformed again, we were separated by
Miles and politics, connected by deep-ocean
Currents, converging winds, and our eternal
Desire to reunite. Academic and military
Women thrust together, disparities resulting in
Quarrelsome arguments, until enduring love
Placated our differences. As married brides, we
Accepted each other, heart-treasured, soul-
Companions, another lifetime twained.
By necessity, for a few weeks each month, we
Separate when I take fish from deep-sea ocean
Canyons. On this pristine moonlit night, I feel
Your loving presence as we make quiet prayers
To protect us from perils of land, sea, and man.
My love, you are buoy and anchor both, keeping
Me emotionally afloat and preventing me from
Drifting errantly to Nova Scotian shores.
Poem of reflection, introspection, whilst open-ocean
fishing, few lines jotted, written on dry land.