I left Livorno in a sapphire dawn;
white mountains, crumpled like a thrown back sheet,
recede as softly daylight fades to fawn;
Alone I sailed into the sullen heat.

Last night, your dark eyes shone. I remember
reflected in a glass of spicy red,
yellow candlelight - a crimson ember.
You laughed. I conjectured - how soon till bed.

Noon: dolphins leap across the bow wave's foam,
Capraia passes, barren and treeless.
I think of how bewildered Ulysses,
captured by Calypso, still yearned for home.
Beyond love lies no cosy solitude,
just empty chaos, where dark matters brood.

Biographia Literaria
(Samuel's Sarahs)

Alan Wickes

Sarah Coleridge nee Fricker
Sara Hutchinson (Asra)
Sara Coleridge b. 22nd December 1802

"I speak not now of those habitual Ills
That wear out Life, when two unequal Minds
Meet in one House & two discordant Wills -
(Letter to Sara Hutchinson, April 4, 1802 - Sunday Evening.)

What sparked his sudden outburst, who can tell?
Bad sex perhaps, a botched attempt to patch
things up, a pointless row, familiar hell.
All night he writes to her. You try to snatch
some sleep, then watch alone, in misery
the strange, psychotic moon devour the old.
"He loves the other Sara more than me?"
You dare not ask, for fear of being told.
Next anniversary: the final twist,
you're now with child, he's published and been damned,
"It's Asra he adored", critics insist.
His genius left forsaken, a door slammed
shut. Their daughter, Sara, survived the wreck:
her father's famous name hung round her neck.

Naxos

Alan Wickes

You pick your way across a pebbly shore.
Some local fishermen sit stitching nets;
Your passing - they conspicuously ignore.
You feign indifference, a fading coquette's
Last resort. Once, for you, lithe athletes leapt
To pluck bright garlands from a wild bull's horn.
Then, as the unsuspecting city slept,
Beguiled by Theseus, you eloped at dawn.
He jilted you at his first port of call.
Abandoned now, the blowsy concubine
Of Dionysus, surely you recall,
Amidst your wanton pleasure - nights of wine
Sweet-talk and sex - that sad, expectant girl
Who from the quay watched his dark sail unfurl.