Port In The Night Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

For us
Who dream about a
Lonely bell
Past vesper times
Which rings and weeps:
The port at night
Is as the flower
To the bee.

We,
The romantics,
We
Humans not romantic
But with a percentage
Romantic, however minimal,
We,
Flock to the Port
As the night comes
But now with feet
Of flesh and bones
But rather and often with
The wings of brains.

They be machines the same.

The port waters
We sip
But drink not:
Yet
The delight in sipping
So greater than the
Delight in dreaming
Those twilight waves
The twilight in our mouths
The twilight in our lips
The twilight in our taste.

In us
And yet evanescent
The twilight foments in
The dark
But sweetly
Foments.

Till the Dawn
Many hours of night
Before us stretch:
The beauties of the dusk
That dazzled us and
Made us wild:
Now
Fade in higher beauties
Of the night
And I see vessel and small
Boats kissing the waves
They ply:
And subdued machine sounds
And flickering lights
Most come and go
The others go
Just go
In to the glorious night