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SB Jan 24
Who was it that decided that a knot should be so painful to untie?

Sometimes, a tie is loose,
It has no purpose,
It is old,
It decays!

So why do we hang on?
Why don’t we just allow the knot to be broken when its clearly no longer functional?

Its quite sad really. How a knot becomes so weathered when two ends just can’t let go.
William Allen Jan 15
And so the sea, she claimed three.

Taking the Mariner, Maiden, & unborn babe.

Together they shall live
in the cold currents.

Ne'er being separate
E'ermore.

For when the sea calls,
the heart must listen.

Giving itself wholly
to the cold and unforgiving tide.

And the sea she sang
a hymnal for thee
a hymnal for three.

Together in the harmony
of the cold
and unforgiving tide.

And the sea she sang
a hymnal for thee
a hymnal for three.
This is part X of a ten-part series titled, "Weathered: A Tale of Love and Loss." This is the final poem of this ten-part series, and I hope that you've enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing and sharing it with you. If you have any questions about any of the pieces written, or where inspiraition came for each piecce, please reach out to me and I will gladly answer. If oyu would like to see the original format of these pieces, you may find them on instagram at: @speakertyler

Thank you.
William Allen Jan 15
In the sudden moments
her heart sank
one-thousand leagues
into the sea of tears.

The yearning aching heart
beat violently in her chest.

Hands trembling
she reached
outward
for the oil lamp dimly lit.

The slow clapping of bare feet
against those aged cherry floors.

Her delicate hand
pushed open the finished oak door
that led to their sanctuary.

The door,
with all the worlds hope
&
despair behind it
opened.

She gathered her
ivory white slip
and made her way to the shore

The cold rush of the November tide
met her at waist height.

The weight of her despondent heart
would be enough to hold her down.

Waist
Shoulders
The top of her auburn hair.

Her footsteps
now but distant memories
of the sand.

Her body now one with the sea.
This is part IX of a ten-part story titled, "Weathered: A Tale of Love and Loss."
When writing this story, I knew from the beginning that I did not want a happy ending. Not for the sake of being sad, but rather because I'm not fond of traditional happy endings in stories. I feel like the weight of the story loses some gravity when it's happy at the end.
William Allen Jan 15
The fire in the belly of the mantle
lowly roars.
With it, the harmony of the beacon.

Though, as with all great scores, there must be an end.

When the last line of the melody is played
and the final note clings to the air
then decays.

As did the beacon so.
Drawing its last breath
and light slipping unto the dark.

With hurried steps
the Maiden makes her climb
Through the cherry staircase
onward and upward
the tower.

Falling, with all of the world's weight,
she weeps.
Her tears darkening the floorboards
like black ink on a yellow stained page

She could feel the call.
This is part VII of a ten-part story titled "Weathered: A Tale of Love and Loss." When creating this story early on, I really wanted to have a section that contained two parts. I felt that using the beacon in this instance would be to the advantage of the story.
William Allen Jan 15
My dearest Olivia,

I write this letter with a heavy heart and yet, an even heavier hand. This vessel takes on water as I blot these old pages with ink. I hold your memory close as flame to a well-oiled wick. Cherishing our fondest moments spent together, and letting them keep me warm in this frigid cold.

The way your ivory slip would rest on your shoulders so delicately as we strolled through the fields of home. How the wind would gently pass through your deep flowing auburn hair, and how sweetly I would tuck the free-flowing strands behind your ears.

I desperately yearn to be back home by your side in the comfort of our chamber, with my hand interlaced with your hair, as the glorious yellow rays seep through our window and slowly fill the room with luminous light.

We shall be together soon, I fear not. And I shall wait to see your hurried steps on heavens golden shores. Weep not for me or for this loss. The sea is beckoning me home.

I hope this letter finds you. I love you,

-W.A.
This is part VII of a ten-part story titled, "Weathered: A Tale of Love and Loss." I wanted to break poetic structure of the story a bit and create a love letter that was believable between the two characters, for the reader. Here's to hoping that I did that for you.

Enjoy
William Allen Jan 14
The wind gently pushed through sails,
carrying the vessel further from shore.

Seas still with timid temper
this was the calm before the storm.

Oh the fabled calm
how many a weary sailor
sang its song.
The beauty before the gale and the fall.

Boards speak softly
as the ship sweetly
stirs.

Blue crests swell
raising & lowering
the vessel as if to rock her
to sleep.

Oh the fabled calm
how many a weary sailor
sang its song.
The beauty before the gale and the fall.
This is part V of a ten-part story titled "Weathered: A Tale of Love and Loss"
When writing this piece, colors without saturation were coming to mind so I wanted to try and convey that here.

Enjoy.
William Allen Jan 14
The whirring of the beacon
drummed low and steady

The light burning its way
through the night

That light,
oh how brightly it shone

For it stayed lit
to guide the mariner
home.

At night
&
during day
The maiden, oh how sweetly she'd
pray.

That beacon, fueled by love
contested the sun
and its brilliant shine.

For it stayed lit
to guide the mariner
home.
This is part IV of a ten-part series titled "Weathered: A Tale of Love and Loss"
This particular piece came at a point of self-reflection that I had and so that emotion bled into this work rather freely.

Enjoy.
William Allen Jan 10
The low wind howled
against the creaking
&
moaning of ships.

Dark clouds blotted out
all hopeful rays of the sun.

Small drops of water blotted
chestnut colored planks

Fraying aged ropes wet with sea mist
tug and pull taught
as vessels heave up and down.

Sails shake tirelessly
in the careless throws
of the wind.

Her words, like sweet drops of wine,
fall softly from her saddened lips.

"Must you go?
Must you brave the angered seas?
Must you set out once more,
this final time?"

Though sweet was her voice,
her words filled with grief
held a gravity to them.
He did not wish to leave.

Seeing her tear stricken face
He softly ran his fingers
through her heavy auburn hair.

A final embrace
and a solemn goodbye
The Mariner kissed his wife.
This is part III of a ten-part story titled "Weathered: A Tale of Love & Loss"
William Allen Jan 10
The sweet solemn melody
swam through the dim-lit room.

His eyes pressed shut
swaying to and fro
in the rhythm of her hearts song.

The fire in the belly of the mantle
cracked and popped
its own lovestruck melody
warmly roaring.

The Maidens song spills
from finger & bow
dancing on air & swimming
in ears.

She watches as the final note
is pulled through the string
singing with its last dying breath

The Maidens song spills
from finger & bow
dancing on air & swimming
in ears.
This is part II of a ten-part series titled "Weathered: A Tale of Love & Loss"

Please enjoy.
William Allen Jan 10
Black sands awashed
by crystal waters
&
slate gray cliffs
adorn the countryside

Perched atop the highest bluff
our home ignites the way
for the lost
&
the weary.

I, The Mariner, know all too well
the change brought forth
by the ebb & flow
of the tide.

I've braved the seas
&
watched men die.
I've seen the beauty
of
starlight skies.

Beholden to none
other than my vessel and bride
I yearn to sail one last time
beneath the starlight skies.
This is part one of a ten-part series titled "Weathered: A Tale of Love & Loss."
I gained inspiration for writing this series when I was in Galway, Ireland by the Spanish Arch in Galway city. I journeyed there to be the best man in my best friends wedding and we took a stroll through the city and happened upon this great stone monument. As soon as I laid eyes on it my brain started reeling with ideas about a story between a mariner and a maiden. What you will be reading here will be that story. Please enjoy.

This story is dedicated to all mariners lost at sea.
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