Font of marvel

Quick & bearded at the sea
a near-confirmed poet
in residence
Windblown hillward for Merlin
or rather
for no reason clear at all
or four surprise pure
In steep ruined cairns
of his still cathedral wrack
strewn
deep in heavy wet grass & lichen
and found
The revellers cumulating
Softly rumbling in rich oak pews neath sky blue
Murmuring near
& Sun spoke fast

Swam clear fresh turtle lagoon
Replete with gems, ancient weapons
studded in barnacles, vases
Objects of value, lutes
with broken strands
Chandeliers in the sand
All
a pelucid font of marvel
I spoke with turtles and wanted
Never to leave

Danced in the same air
Of miraculous bright clarity
Not wanting
from me
Not giving
outright
The homey shaman
his big low bed
ample with old gilded books
His table stocked well
with maps & riddles
threw out
some possibilities
Laughing about
Charts, Spirits & Fiery Demons