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William Allen Jan 2019
Black sands awashed
by crystal waters
&
slate gray cliffs
adorn the countryside

Perched atop the highest bluff
our home ignites the way
for the lost
&
the weary.

I, The Mariner, know all too well
the change brought forth
by the ebb & flow
of the tide.

I've braved the seas
&
watched men die.
I've seen the beauty
of
starlight skies.

Beholden to none
other than my vessel and bride
I yearn to sail one last time
beneath the starlight skies.
This is part one of a ten-part series titled "Weathered: A Tale of Love & Loss."
I gained inspiration for writing this series when I was in Galway, Ireland by the Spanish Arch in Galway city. I journeyed there to be the best man in my best friends wedding and we took a stroll through the city and happened upon this great stone monument. As soon as I laid eyes on it my brain started reeling with ideas about a story between a mariner and a maiden. What you will be reading here will be that story. Please enjoy.

This story is dedicated to all mariners lost at sea.
William Allen Jan 2019
You've got to understand
that:
The words you speak with purpose
are
The same behind your fate
and
Believe me when I say,
I love you.

I love you.
William Allen Jan 2019
What makes a heart go
pitter patter?

A smile, a laugh?
Perhaps a lass?

A flutter here and there
quickly becomes
the natural rhythm
of love.

Gleaming eyes, lip curled gently behind teeth
the bashful look down
to interlaced fingers.

A flutter shared
among smiles and happily
beating hearts.
William Allen Jan 2019
Oh how I intend to love
so sweetly and true.

Yet, I struggle to give
to anyone but you.

For all I observe and scrawl
in these pages
are but momentary actions fueled by a lost
and lonely heart.

My wish, my intent
is to continue
to give to you.

Though the ways
they may change

Ne'er shall you be
without.
William Allen Jan 2019
The cold familiar chill
of November mornings
now comes with despondent
wakings.

Sleepless nights on cold
gray sheets of stone.

Tired lovesick limbs
reaching for home.

Thoughts spoken in solemnity
to the dark.

Oh how these nights
they go leaving a yearning
in my heart.
William Allen Jan 2019
I do not believe I am
capable of being
loveless.

Pouring all I have
into all I have
got.

My heart beats & drums
away, ever full.

For it has too much
to give.

Shared looks, & evenly exchanged
gestures of touch.

My brave heart flutters.

And for each thing
I love
I receive but a little in return.

This return is why
I am never
Loveless.
William Allen Jan 2019
Her head rests gently
on my shoulders

Our fingers laced warmly
together

And I can feel her pulse
in palm, as I am sure
she feels the heart
beating in my
chest.

My hand swims freely
through the sea
of her hair.

Ne'er         faltering,
ne'er questioning
purpose.

The smell of perfume
clings      tightly
to my clothes

All these things, I experience
in     her     company
and oh how I long
for them to stay
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