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...THE OLD VICARAGE, GRANTCHESTER by RUPERT BROOKE BY THE ALMA RIVER by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK THE GRAPE-VINE SWING by WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS THE MORAL FABLES: THE PROLOG by AESOP SONG FOR DECORATION DAY by HELEN C. BACON A CHARACTER OF SARAH HALLOWELL VAUGHAN by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |