Woman, Sea and Myth No surprise that myth has woman rising From the sea. The white or ochre sand, her warm body, The waves the colour of her eyes— All weathers give all shades— And salt for her tears. I’m sure Botticelli Fashioned Aphrodite’s hair On those great wet skeins of brown and yellow kelp You see enmeshed with sea-berries, Washed up on the shore. Pearl and shells her toe and finger nails; And let sharp coral be The reefs where all her hapless victims founder. Let tracery Of nerve and deep desire And shadowed ebb and flow of feeling…