The Great Lake, rolling ice-chunks
In white-capped little curls
Morning creeping meekly
A beach strewn with tiny pearls
Her night of joy now over
Though echoes still remain
Of a party like no other
Where all things took the blame
Peeking out through rattling glass
The wind beat to come on in
I saw a thing of unleashed joy
A dancing, crashing din
White stallions rose up on high
Their manes and tails unfurled
Mouths open to screeching pitch
Then back in the lake they hurled
The wind, no timid thing
It pushed and howled and blew
With teeth a sharp as razor blades
She bit and gnawed and chewed
The lake, herself, cast off her poise
She shimmied, rumbaed and sang
She heaved her breast and threw her hips
Her song like cymbals rang
I heard lions, with mangy roars
And drums that held no beat
I saw mermaids riding bareback
On horses with no feet
The night spit ice, with fury and fun
It held nothing quiet or calm
It clamped the moon in a great headlock
Till all the light and was gone
The party was had all through the night
A riotous, clashing fray
Now morning has come, with a hung over light
And the wild things have gone to pray