Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2014
One day our ship will port in a place of peace and wonder.
Abaft facing the wind and sails at rest.
Limp from its journey, tired and sunder. The bolt rope holding it together.
pushing stead course toward its mark breaking every crest.
awaiting to reach its voyage end, brails to pull along the way.
The shore that limits the journey stay.
George Maris
Written by
George Maris
589
   g clair
Please log in to view and add comments on poems