I’ll follow yon’ stream down south to the shore,
just go, with the flow, to the sea.
I’ll take myself off to hide my heart’s hurt;
become someone else ‘stead of me.
I’ll dream and deny the pain I can’t cry,
soothe soul, in my boat, by the bay.
I’ll take the high tide, lift anchor and glide,
steal stillness and stow it away.
Rub salt in my wounds and watch them all heal,
(old Sea-Dog had taught me that ruse.)
Make coastline my home, inland will not roam,
will take up again with my Muse!
I’ll sit down to read, pen poems that plead
for sinners who savaged my rhymes.
Like shells on the sand; they can’t understand;
so I'll not count cruelties as crimes.
And when the dawn breaks, comes casting its spell,
a new man they’ll find on the beach:
a seafaring gent, a jack-tar, content,
with heart that bad love cannot reach!
-
Author:
Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 28th, 2021 07:37
- Comment from author about the poem: Heave to and show a leg, read me poem and feel me freedom! I may have posted this one before, but I've edited it and it is a fave of mine, so I hope you'll forgive me for repeating myself.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet, jarcher54
Offline)
Comments5
A fine write Kevin.
Stirring. Thank you.
Metaphor only for recovery from lost love? I hope so from a selfish point of view as I suffer from terrible seasickness.
Absolute admiration for technical quality of your verse.
A compelling write Kevin. And editing a previous write has no crime. ; )
A sweet little piece but the photo is just as perfect!
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