Mackerel Night...

A sweeping hand goes down, scoping the glowing waves... a little sea urchin just beyond the reach... a night so fair, where shooting stars die... with crimson veins skip across the fins... giving way to foams to form just below the chin... and there it flew, the opposite of its group manouevering, across the ring of floating jellyfishes and little shrimps... A yell not heard, fiish couldn't yell...   It swims under the emerald coves, and into the briliant coloured sea, winding the wolly woolen wharfs where the stars are dancing doves...