St. Creola is Our Lady of the Shoreline.
Drowning sailors call to her,
but beautifully, like carolers.
St. Creola is unperturbed by them.
They are leaves gently falling
from those trees--their wooden ships.
The beach has so many grains of sand,
changing color with every passing wave;
and the waves arrive ceaselessly, like babies.
St. Creola advises to accept peace where and when you can.
Rushing water makes as poor a floor as roof,
so bless the dry interlude, and the fruit section offered at noon.
The sun has warmed St. Creola,
and when the moon arrives, later,
she will still be here--
a pretty Constant
under the imprimatur of the clouds and stars.