Though ’Twere 10,000 Waves

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

If you were near a distant loch, away

The miles from England where I dream of you,

Dream daydreams of the hair on you, Strathspey

Between us, not to mention blue Loch Ewe,

My heart would take me like an Irish saint

To holiness as harried by the worst

Of winds that seas have known.  The worst constraint

Could never stop me.  Every wave would burst

Away because my chest would smash against

The salt of ocean weakness.  Leather boat

Would take me sacred, arms and chest fornenst

The elements.  My sainted veins would gloat.

  No colours, none, could hold me back.   The rust

    Of autumn bracken would in love combust.

⁓ Phillip Whidden