Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
mr-ePoems
When ships set sail, their masts held high Daunting flags, painting the sky With rails gold rimmed And sails sharp trimmed A crowd appears, waving adieu, goodbye Thunderous roar, unequaled praise Wind catching sheets Anchors raised A bell rings softly and waves do lap Against the hull of a wooden throne From far off shores this scene is spied With two friends of oars we've always tried To reach for that deck In fervent eye Climb on board or surely die Tattered clothes, sailors cap Smudge on cheek Shirt of burlap We push off deck Yet crowd is gone A journey ventured with bright sun dawned Water ripples with our wake Small and steady pulses we make Though we row to catch schooner bold As we creak of wooden old Land gestures for us to stay Why venture out on choppy bay? Whispers roll and caustic laugh With sun beat oars a line is set No motive sweeter, nor regret Sweat beads mix with salty froth Cutting across the water green Battleship chugs with billowed steam A voice escapes you as you scream Sputtering away, with muted cries And oars but stop Far from home As head does drop Splintered hull tears apart We're left to cling to shattered planks And fight to stay afloat Alone With far off yacht a speck Atone for water slapping neck We groan with defeated boat and deck Driftwood in salty surf Connecting with shore We walk back to land Imprints swallowed by golden sand A new rowboat to be procured Again we build to flag down our Brig And stand upon its polished bow We persist to where we are but now As we strive to grasp victory bell We strive ever onward To sail with our destined Caravelle
0
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 9:36 AM UTC
Rowboat
When ships set sail, their masts held high Daunting flags, painting the sky With rails gold rimmed And sails sharp trimmed A crowd appears, waving adieu, goodbye Thunderous roar, unequaled praise Wind catching sheets Anchors raised A bell rings softly and waves do lap Against the hull of a wooden throne From far off shores this scene is spied With two friends of oars we've always tried To reach for that deck In fervent eye Climb on board or surely die Tattered clothes, sailors cap Smudge on cheek Shirt of burlap We push off deck Yet crowd is gone A journey ventured with bright sun dawned Water ripples with our wake Small and steady pulses we make Though we row to catch schooner bold As we creak of wooden old Land gestures for us to stay Why venture out on choppy bay? Whispers roll and caustic laugh With sun beat oars a line is set No motive sweeter, nor regret Sweat beads mix with salty froth Cutting across the water green Battleship chugs with billowed steam A voice escapes you as you scream Sputtering away, with muted cries And oars but stop Far from home As head does drop Splintered hull tears apart We're left to cling to shattered planks And fight to stay afloat Alone With far off yacht a speck Atone for water slapping neck We groan with defeated boat and deck Driftwood in salty surf Connecting with shore We walk back to land Imprints swallowed by golden sand A new rowboat to be procured Again we build to flag down our Brig And stand upon its polished bow We persist to where we are but now As we strive to grasp victory bell We strive ever onward To sail with our destined Caravelle
mr-e
Written by
mr-e
American
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 9:36 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem