Sea-horse courtship: A Poem-- Did you swim side-by-side holding tails/ Before wheeling around in a frenzy of pre-dawn waltz—/ And do the milky white passages of the Hippocampus/ (For which you are richly named)/ Hold the blessings of Paschal eggs traded in unison?/ Poem written on the third day of Passover 2012 (Easter Sunday), following a walk on the beach upon which I came upon a tiny sea-horse covered in salt, expired, thrown from the waves onto the sand.

Sea

Sunset Sea

Iridescent Waves by janet little, via Flickr

Sand Dunes

beached

quiet early morning walks on the beach

~~Lighthouse Wave - Porthcawl | Giant wave during an epic storm, Cardiff, Wales by wentloog~~

3ft tall, I hope you always have a shell in your pocket and sand in your shoes...Handpainted Rustic Wooden Wall Phrase Large Art

The Ocean is calling me:) This is just what I need and quickly:}

to the ocean with hubby for our 20th anniversary. we've never been to the ocean/beach together!!

Mother Ocean

The Lighthouse...

"Mushroom wave" When waves collide. Wherever this photo was taken appears to have been experiencing a red tide event (which in some cases leads to bioluminescence Photo: Neil Wharton

2013 SANDSCULPTING RESULTS

Lightning Over Bloor: "....I had always suspected The poet’s powerful leanings, but now I reckoned How few exchanges we had actually come to know Between pedagogy, providence, and rain...." (Excerpt from poem forthcoming in Academic Matters, Judith P. Robertson, May, 2012.)

Post-script: Virginia to Vita/ Come with me to the Valley of Dra'a/ Where we will pick dates, then sleep/ In a room the colour of dusty rose/ Beneath Berber blankets smelling of saffron/ And dream of Lilly Briscoe casting her diagonal beam/ Across silver waves to the edge of dawn. — in Aït Ben Haddou, Ouarzazate/. This poem brings together again in erotic encounter Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West, each of whom traveled to Persia in the 1920s, but not together.

Orange Morocco/ Meet me on the terrace/ Of the little cafe in the casbah/ And we will be Moroccans the way/ Matisse saw it/ Building our generous layers of pigment/ Through orange blossom and turmeric/ Three small goldfish and a basket of/ tangerines./ The concrete vitality of image, smell, and colour inspire this poem, in which I imagine an erotic rendezvous with Matisse, who spent many years painting and creating some of his most famous work in Marrakech.

Poems in Newfoundland Time. This poetic sequence explores the blessings of place, memory, temporal belonging and the material/human world in my new island home on the sea in Newfoundland. http://uottawa.academia.edu/JudithRobertson/Papers/1222761/Robertson_Judith_P._2010_._Poems_in_Newfoundland_Time._Academic_Matters_OCUFAs_Journal_of_Higher_Education._June_9_2010