This section is from the book "The Book Of The White Butterflies", by Margaret J. Borthwick. Also available from Amazon: The Book of the White Butterflies.
IDREAM the cold white lands in Southron seas, Where high the waves are tossed. I dream the fogs that veil those Southron shores Those dread black cliffs ne'er crossed.
I see the ships that sail those Southron seas, That lift, and heave, and strive. I know they feel the darkness and the stress, They smell the ice arrive.
I dream the cold of moonlight nights at sea, When the long rollers heave. I dream the sea that swells, and clinging Swells, And spells of magic weaves.
I dream the clash of wave on Southron shores, Those cold volcanic rocks. I dream the ship a harbour seeks and seeks, The land the good ship mocks.
1 dream the green wave sweeps along the ship. I dream the ship's alive.
I know she butts her way right down that shore. With heave, and heft, and dive.
 
Continue to: