He walked out on the blowing sands,
And gazed across the emerald sea,
Forgetting all his other plans.
He walked along in ecstasy,
And all his thoughts were with her full.
He thought it all an augury.
From what might come of his heart’s pull,
He did not know, but hoped for much:
A touching pure, and beautiful.
But oft, illusion’s made of such;
He did not know her heart at all:
Buoyed as he was, with phantom touch.
As witness to her siren call
The sea, the sands, and all his thought
Were frames around his lover’s fall
But though much damage there was wrought
At least, these precious moments bought