I am not one to look at a tree
and see the cross of Christ.
Or shake a snow globe until it blizzards
and snuffs the snowman's pipe.
I do not dally in flat Flanders
but tarry in the Alps
amongst edelweiss and fat cattle
and green mountain home.

I do not steal pennies but coffers
from the banks of copper rivers
whose rocks shine like rose diamonds
when the sun is either East or West.

And I do not love in half but whole.

Not a shell but a seashore.
Not a current but a tide.
Not a wave but an ocean.
A laughing gull, a joyous ride to ports unknown.
Making Sinbad look like a foot soldier.