The lazy looped sky looked sad
As the sand bells gathered
Above the sleeping town
I was on the path to the beach
You were sitting in your sham castle
There were many ribbons in your hair of varying lengths
Some dangled from the tower
Dancing occasionally in the storm breezes
I had a blue ribbon tied to my wrist
The beach was deserted
I swam without inhibition
So did you
But we did not speak
On my return to the path I met a
Prisoner of Conscience
Who having absconded
From his prison
Who was as hiding in the trees
That overlooked the beach
At first I thought he was spying on you
And was trying to steal your freedom
So I tied him to a tree with your ribbons
The poor man wept
So I released him
He told me of the wooden table
In his cell
And of the whitewashed walls
Much spoiled
You emerged from the sea
And were soon at your window
Tying your ribbons together
Some dangled from the tower
Dancing occasionally in the storm breezes
Although the summer had been long
It was coming to an end
So I agreed to remain with the prisoner
Near to the trees that overlooked the beach
As we both awaited St Lucy’s Day