I’m like a sailing ship, sinking deep, in the depths of your melancholic seas.

The sirens sing to your heart bleeding; couldn’t tear my eyes away when you are hurting.

Waiting for you to smile again,
like the rising of the sun;
it was then that I knew I have left my heart to sail, one more time.

I met a boy –
in the middle of the ocean, with no prenotions.

Eyes soft as the waves –
rocking us down our way, smooth sailing my way.

I knew it wouldn’t turn into something bigger –
than a summer crush, a summer fling.

We were just living in the moment –
living young, wild, and free.

Out on the Caribbean –
where the sun shines brighter than I’ve ever seen –

I shared a kiss under the stars,
with a stranger, only at 17.

Didn't matter how many stories we told
bout the lives we lived back on the shore,

We were just basking in our short-lived loving –
lost on the ocean, my storybook romance –

I’ll forget your name, I'm sure you’ll forget mine,
but I won’t forget your face or our time.

No strings attached is a little too extreme…

It was just innocent lovin’ on the seven seas.

in the

middle (our
love

sails)

of the night.

Churning with the shells of critters
Foam infused with flour hues
Reaching and receding
Timeless yet awash in currents
It learns in waves
The perfect pupil
Relying on all it can see

I had this tremendous fear.
The mist soon all around;
The water around capsizes.
Substance attends, a funeral of sorts.
I've never ventured this far.
Soon they return, looking back.
Fleeing wildish scream.
My former thought bold.
Such my hope.
Resurfacing the ill fated.
The thought of sinking.
Forced to roam in darkness.
Where would I place my feet.
Perplexed, nothing was the same.
Cold, unable to find comfort.
I drifted, longing to chance the size of waves.
Distant waters courteous in expectation.
I too braced for it.
Becoming motionless.
Awaiting descent.

Not all ships sink.
The voyage extended from strangers eyes.
When the wind stops and the sail settles.
Some peculiar gaze, heavily weighed in length.
The ship sinks.
But this I feel far too late.
I am at the bottom.
The bottom of her heart

The wind did come.
The clouds like sails, soft on a mild day.
There was no rain.
Onward the clouds sailed.
Thick, to and fro.
The sun upright peeked through.
Slant beams.
The clouds like sails drooped.
Sagging in the distance.
Parting ways they swam.
Creating shapes, more soft ridges.
The clouds men.
Ever more to rejoice.
The birds like currents.
The bluest of oceans.
Below I gaze, light in heart
Watching them sail on

Sinking,
       the drifting ceiling of blue and grey light
illuminating the ride.

Suffocating,
       grasping for something, anything,

A light in the dark,
       the eternal fading,
the last residuals of the cold falling away,

And then the transitory returns.
       The golden sun, wind kissed waves,
and a weather beaten hand catching yours,
       a call, joyful, echoed the gull high above,
as safety brings the glow of liberty.

We left the safety of port.
Rising and falling
wave after wave.
The wind stung our face.
Abroad tensions rose.
Never seeing water the way we've seen.
Tossing and turning.
The ship slicing the strong current.
Together we hauled toward the anchor.
Spotting the largest wave we'd ever seen.
Hurling towards us with everything she had.
We set sail without guide.
This perhaps the worse storm yet.
We braced for impact.
Not prepared for what accompanied.
The boom crashed against the deck.
Our linen tossed everywhere.
We panicked,
steering best we could to no avail.
We succumbed to her fury.
Ready to face what may.
Our true destination found.
Seeking the sun after devastation

set down on satin lining
velvet box laid cautiously
placed on top of other cargo
for the voyage on the sea

strands of precious shining stones
stowed in Captain's quarters
second mate stood by to guard
it was the Captain's orders

secured and safely in the hold
I had no need to fret
the lateen sails were readied
drawn up the mast and set

sun shone brilliant, sky so clear
along Africa's gold coast shore
the journey would be smooth
captain couldn't have asked for more

with Portugal as destination
and royalty waiting there
crew's footsteps scurried on the deck
there was excitement in the air

the caravel set out to sail
'twas in the sixth month of the year
that traditional wedding time
and the date was coming near

the date I had to be delivered
for the princess bride to be
to be worn above her ***** fair
sparkling gems from 'cross the sea

I'll match her love-filled eyes
and complete the four required
not sure of old or new or borrowed
but for blue she'll have sapphire.