And as the sounds <br />of liquids gushing <br />subsided, a hum <br />was clearly heard. <br />So like the foreign chant <br />of devils' disciples, <br />all hoarse in voice <br />made of persuasiveness, <br />bold continuity, <br />like beating one's own fingers <br />of shrill dissonance <br />against the cave's own pane, <br />demanding passage <br />into the benevolence <br />of darkness with its drops <br />of syrup, borne by shooting stars: <br />Do come inside! <br />The sounds rose high, <br />moist air convulsing now <br />fresh waves, oscilloscopes, <br />on which soft velvet rode astride, <br />and with a whimper it gave way, <br />the portal fell, admitting troops <br />of agile fishes to the sea, <br />where all was soon consumed <br />by spikes of lightning speed <br />and by the weeping mother of all tides.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-mother-of-all-tides/
