No matter what poetry word I look for in light
In its rich aural sounds or a cuckoo rain-song
While morning is night , a light breeze blows
In green trees ringing in light love, from a poet
To whom it came down fluting by summer sea.
Our poet-friend is long gone and is lying dead
And lightly ,I suppose, after all that light love.
By the sea there is lightness of all and our being.
Let us lie lightly like love by the summer sea.
In love death sits lightly on our lightness of being.
(Remembering the poem Beside The Idle Summer Sea by William Earnest Henley)