Lovers are as mariners, navigators
in crowded, intricate sea lanes of
momentary loathing and lasting passion.
Pilots guided vessels into the straits:
from the north, between Trwyn-du’s dark rocks
and the wicked sands of Dutchman Bank;
from the south, between Abermenai
and Fort Belan over the Caernavon Bar;
and then through The Swellies – Pwll Ceris,
‘Pool of Love’ – where the surging high tides whirl
round Ynys Gored Goch, the wild waves
tawny and their foam white as drifting snow.
Lovers are as sailors in insane storms
and intimate calms, ever watchful
for icebergs and mutinies, heading always
to the Hesperides, course set forever
westwards into the sun.