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Hammad Oct 2020
Love is like a sailboat
when the tides are high
and rough,
in the midst of storm
We throw off the bowlines,
surrender the helm
to the winds
and choose to
adrift - into the unknown
Madeline Hatter Aug 2020
I am not a sailor.
I desire to run.
Confine me not to a puddle dependent on the wind.
Direct me to the forest, the hills, and I will create my own draft,
as I speed across the ground,
flying over earth to distances greater than the confines of your wet berth.
No, I relish a solid state of matter beneath my feet.
I am a fire sign.
Warning: do not get wet.
Purcy Flaherty Feb 2018
'Twas all so beautiful a sight,
A long summers night; The sacred stars were burning bright about our mother moon.

The wind filled the sails above the waves, that sped us through the sailors tales, and brought us to a deep lagoon.

We cast our nets out far and wide, then watched them sink below the tide, which rattled out a tune for me and you.

We hauled aboard the silver fish, to fill our bellies and our fists, then set off home with seagulls squawking tunes.

The wooden boat now tied about the quay,
its tattered sail and rusty cleat,
gently tug and tug the rope upon the swell.

come to sea!
A little well used boat tied about a key
Just Maria Jun 2018
A sail boat is docked beside the pier
The lapping water is all I hear
I feel the breeze upon my face
I dream of blue skies and open space

To sail the sea without a care
No time for worries, just time to spare
A thought of new adventures crosses my mind
Of all the treasures that I will find

I'll gather stories from far and near
That I'll retell year after year
At night the moon will shine above
And I'll remember those whom I love

A little sadness enters my heart
as from this dream I must depart
I turn away with a slight smile
At least I was free for just a while
I was inspired to write this poem by a photograph that I took of a sail boat and I started dreaming about how nice it would be just to sail without a care
Zell Jul 2017
I am lost at sea.
I am a traveler on a sailboat with not even a single hint of where i am headed.
The wind gushes and i trust it for wherever it takes me.
There is no map.
There is no star nor sun to guide my path.
I have lost my compass years ago;
But somehow even if the wind can’t speak,
I close my eyes from time to time and try to feel it,
Whispering and hoping that it would eventually lead me to my true north which is you.
© 2017 D.A. Barreras
Diána Bósa Dec 2016
Being ancient but
perky I am not here
for you to bond my

strength, to lock me like
a djinn into a bottle
for making a wish

as and when you wish
but to guide your sailboat through
wild, choppy waters,

just to play with your
hair, to cool the fever and
kiss the tearful face of yours.
Nick Moser Dec 2016
Sometimes I sit here,
Wanting to cry.

But I can't.

And sometimes,
I sit here,
And the tears sneak up on me from out of nowhere.

And there's no way that I,

A small paper sailboat, floating aimlessly in my own sorrow,

Can survive the force of the typhoon coming from my eyes.
Storm Damage
Miranda Renea Sep 2016
I fell asleep as a wave crashed,
Water from the sea of glass nipped
My toes. When I woke, the world
Seemed strange; The same yet
Smaller. Perhaps as a note in
A bottle; words written by small
Hands and sent off with wish
Of such grand adventures.
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