Hot clouds swarmed a tropical moon
Shining like a piece of pirate eight
Or half a freshly minted doubloon
Issued to pay for heavenly freight
Hoisting high in the eastern sky
And drifting into the settling west;
A course whereby she must comply
Well above each ocean wavelet crest
Treasure twinkling in all her beams
And Neptune's lofty diaphanous mist
Zephyr borne into the jets and streams
From all the waves those breezes kissed;
Now reaching up to cool her face...
From the solar wind on her state of grace!