The sun loomed young through the ribs of the Punic Port Bringing back his turquoise splendor to the Med-Sea; And Seagull, who in his morning flight did escort The golden loaf of bread fishermen longed to see, Soared higher and higher over the glazing port, Preparing for the long voyage when the time be.
Expectant and white was the Carthaginian knight, Oblivious of the blue peril; no long flight Would scare him, no azure thirst would he have to fight. Only the phantasm of an alien skylark, who would despoil the timer of the golden sun & peck out her "off" button with his accent mark - Would make him soar & sing in his vision of bravery.
(c)LazharBouazzi
"Sea Gull in the Port of Carthage" is in part my contribution to Tunisia's resistance to obscurantism.