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May 2018
Augment to me, exotic Lady rise;
just let me touch your spirit in the flesh,
support my pole, and I’ll withdraw my eyes,
this pain ascends the heart like reformed mesh.

In sight this stalwart climb becomes your test,
you smile, you know that this will be your last,
and so you start your groove at my behest,
and minister your hands upon my mast.

In stride, now stroke, just play your graceful hands,
you do it like so many times before.
So wilful, to adhere to my demands,
just let me guide my ship into your shore.

And so I go to my deck and I steer,
while in the crow’s nest you shout land is near.
Written by
Michael King  33/M/Australia
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