The Cerulean King
An Ode to the Blue Marlin, National Fish of The Bahamas
In the kingdom where the sapphire tide meets the burning gold of day,
Where the coral gardens blossom in the salt-flecked, turquoise spray,
There dwells a monarch robed in light, of muscle, speed, and grace,
The swiftest ghost of Lucayan seas, the master of the chase.
With a spear of bone and a heart of fire, through the rolling deep he runs,
A living shard of the ocean’s soul, beneath the tropical suns.
I. The Form of Majesty
His flank is etched in cobalt ink, with silvered stripes that glow,
A shifting neon symphony as he prowls the depths below.
A dorsal fin like a jagged sail, a crescent tail of steel,
He moves with the silent thunder that the trembling currents feel.
The Makaira nigricans, in shadows dark and dim,
No creature of the seven seas can ever match with him.
Ten hundred pounds of leaping power, a lightning bolt in blue,
He pierces through the glassy swell to start his life anew.
II. The Dance of the Deep
When the hook is set and the line is taut, the battle-cry is heard,
He breaks the surface, soaring high, as graceful as a bird.
He "walks the water" on his tail, a greyhound of the brine,
Against the angler’s straining reel and the singing nylon line.
In somersaults and silver arcs, he defies the heavy air,
A warrior of the indigo, with a wild and regal flare.
To see him rise is to behold a wonder fierce and grand,
The pride of every island shore and every sun-drenched sand.





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