In Mazatlan, the ocean roars Around high cliffs or softly pours Its waves along the silver sand: Bright shells like butterflies expand Their wings which glisten on the shores, And crabs lift staring semaphores And glide along the polished floors, Low tides have swept on every hand In Mazatlan. Those mornings when Jose deplores My fishing luck and plies his oars In secret coves of this wild strand, I watch the sun paint sea and land And something in me wakes and soars In Mazatlan. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWO TREES IN KATHMANDU by KAREN SWENSON PISGAH SIGHTS by ROBERT BROWNING AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 7. AFTER THE FAIR by THOMAS HARDY SONNET: 22. TO THE SAME [CYRIACK SKINNER] by JOHN MILTON SUMMER (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE MASK OF ANARCHY; WRITTEN ON OCCASION OF MASSACRE AT MANCHESTER by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY |