Pure The Night

PURE THE NIGHT

Upon a ripple oyster clouds flying,
Moons cap of flowers,
Gulls circle crying.
*
Shimmers flicker out,
Emerging as one a jumping trout.
*
How pure nights glassy sky,
Twinkles far off,
Answering amorous cries.
*
Light house visible for many a mile,
Beacons jump endless foamy stiles.
*
While fog rolls in a sodden mist,
Silence hung,
As if clenched a fist.
*
Waves became shapes,
Clouds that grew,
Torrents bellowed essence drew.
*
Slowly as it had started,
Like an indolent sigh.
*
Gulls radius once more,
In the chronic sub fuse sky.