SONNET 93
Nets riddled like the blue-black heron banks upon
Waterspouts of sand instead cascade flawless white
As the isle of Boracay turns the rocky mound
Found at Station One, glory 'nd hailed like ancient rite,
Yet paltry 'nd so respect gilds paper Japanese
Due with font and rivers fount in dew concise,
Dear ancients of the isle and the isle itself kneads
Sublime, ulterior bless'd us men pastor of kites,
Embedded in nature when Narcissus meant death,
If not possessed, an act for 'nd by none but himself
In the sand. And the herons knit found trees there met
Them older than the seamless mighty bands engulf
Submit, when gradience end where gradation begins,
Timeless, borrowed power may from nature rescind.
