SMP 

         SALT MARSH PUBLICATIONS

POETRY

           VENICE BY THE SEA

               by Clarissa Thomasson

A sparkling diamond–rare and free–                                

The town of Venice by the Sea.

A winter haven from the cold

Where sunsets turn the world to gold.

Bright, tropic blossoms gild each door

As warm waves gently lap the shore.

While herons, egrets, gulls all fly

O’er ancient dunes where sharks’ teeth lie.

But those who’re out at break of day

May glimpse Calusa lads at play

And smell their campfire’s odor sweet

And taste the pungent roasting meat.

Far in the distance, clamor sounds

On rails of steel as hammers pound

‘Round toiling railroad engineers

Through morning mist a town appears.

A whistle sounds; the train’s in sight.

The red-tiled depot springs to life.

As scores of booted cadet feet

Mark solemn cadence down Main Street.

Then as the footstep echoes fade,

The bright noonday is cast in shade.

B-25's roar into view.

It’s Jimmy Doolittle’s own crew!

They dip their wings; the men salute

As a distant whistle starts to toot.

Off to the depot crowds all pour

To see the train pull in once more.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of all ages,"

Rings around the circus cages.

As riders mount, sleek horses prance

Calliopes play, performers dance.

To the Arena–bathed in lights

Troop lovely ladies clad in tights.

And Gebel-Williams’ famous grin

Comes home to Venice once again.

But when the vision fades at last

Of Venice’s illustrious past,

Three soaring egrets rise in flight--

Their sun-drenched feathers glowing white.

On Venice Avenue Snowbirds meet

Their feet now carry on the beat.

‘Neath Hatchett Bridge a sleek sloop slides.

O’erhead, a silver jet now glides.

Off in the distance, hammers pound.

The depot has come back around!

It’s clear the best is yet to be

For our town, Venice by the Sea.

                         EVERGLADES

                      by Clarissa Thomasson

A "River of Grass"--so the Seminoles say--

Where tropical breezes set the sawgrass to sway

O'er miles of flat prairie in a study of greens

From hammocks to marshes and slow-moving streams.

Where palmettos, slash pines, and cabbage palms vie

For a dry bit of ground on their quest for the sky.

Bald eagles and ospreys awaiting their prey

Nest in cypress tree branches now withered and gray.

While way down below in the swamp at their feet

Gray-green alligators all bask in the heat.

Their sloe-eyed indifference a ploy to ensnare

All innocent creatures who come near their lair.

Knee-deep in green algae a blue heron stabs

A sumptuous dinner of small gar and crabs.

Where nearby white ibis and pink spoonbills seek

Small fish and crustaceans in the mud of the creek.

A flash of white wings tinged with golden sunlight--

Signals closing of day as an egret takes flight.

With pulsating wings and harsh, raucous cries

The sky comes alive 'til the setting sun dies.

And soon--darting swiftly through palmetto fronds--

Sly Will-o-the-Wisps leap and dance on the ponds.

Whirling hither and yon on their feet made of flame

O'er dark, dank swamp water they pursue their game.

Fat bullfrogs leap up to a lily pad seat,

Tune their voices in chorus, and take up the beat.

"Who? Who?" asks the owl natives call "o-pa-gee,"

His place rich in legends of Miccosukee.

Then down to the bank creeps a saucy raccoon

To search for a fish by the pale, waning moon.

Soon out of the thicket prance sprightly key deer,

Sniff the air once for danger, then romp without fear.

While out of the dens hungry panthers arise.

Through bracken and mangrove glow bright yellow eyes.

The evening resounds with a primeval call

As blackness descends to cover it all.