Hibiscus on the Sleeping Shores

I say now, Fernando, that on that day / The mind roamed as a moth roams, / Among the blooms beyond the open sand;

And that whatever noise the motion of the waves / Made on the sea-weeds and the covered stones / Disturbed not even the most idle ear.

Then it was that that monstered moth / Which had lain folded against the blue / And the colored purple of the lazy sea,

And which had drowsed along the bony shores, / Shut to the blather that the water made, / Rose up besprent and sought the flaming red

Dabbled with yellow pollen -- red as red / As the flag above the old café -- / And roamed there all the stupid afternoon.