The wooden plank

spilleronsheet

Blue were the skies 

white fluffy clouds playing around 

sometimes like cotton 

Sometimes like feather 

moving around 

 

under that vast sky 

A dark blue grey ocean survived 

so much salty water flows by 

enough to quench the thirst of generations by 

ebbing upon its surface 

a loose wooden plank 

 

the wooden plank 

don’t know when left upon 

don’t know from where it abandoned upon 

clueless to its origin 

clueless to its thought 

rocking and moving 

drifting apart 

the oceans took it 

the storm drenched it 

the winds chased it 

and it slowly moved apart 

 

 

On the whims of waves that carried 

on the sounds of wind that it heard 

on the guidance of lighthouse it moved 

 

this lighthouse lay upon the rocks 

the plank finally saw a light 

years had passed by 

lost its identity as it flowed by 

what dreams 

what ambitions 

what desires 

and now even what duties 

after so long it finally saw the shore of life 

 

pleading the waves 

praising the winds 

it slowly giddied over to the lighthouse 

the lighthouse was telling tale 

tales of mariners

who were late 

 

as it hurriedly went across 

excited to hearing voices around 

it forgot to listen to heeds 

heeds of lighthouse to be cautious 

alas 

wrecked on the reefs 

sorry was the lighthouse 

but finally the years of drifting could stop 

the story of little wooden plank

that it was 

was it a part of sea 

or ship 

a bid adieu without a formal funeral around 

 

  • Author: spilleronsheet (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 27th, 2022 05:47
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 37
  • Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
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Comments +

Comments9

  • Caring dove

    Feel sorry for the wooden plank .

    Another great writing , spiller .. so engaging and well expressed ! 🙂🙂

    • spilleronsheet

      Thank you so much dear Rose
      Indeed the plank was really poor

    • L. B. Mek

      'On the whims
      of waves, that carried on the sounds
      of wind, that it heard on the guidance
      of lighthouse, it moved

      this lighthouse lay upon the rocks
      the plank finally saw a light
      years had passed by

      lost its identity as it flowed by
      what dreams
      what ambitions
      what desires

      and now even what duties
      after so long
      it finally saw the shore of life'
      Brilliant!

      • spilleronsheet

        Thank you so much dear Mek
        So glad you liked it

      • Buzz Bray

        I agree with LB Mek. Also love the line "It slowly giddied over to the lighthouse. " Great imagery!

      • Rozina

        So imaginative. A really enjoyable read.

      • Neville


        you have done yourself & this craft of ours both proud today my friend .... x

        • spilleronsheet

          Thank you dear Neville
          And that comment of yours made it so special

        • Fay Slimm.

          What an inspiring personlising you made of that wooden plank spills - my heart was touched at the efforts it made and not to shore itself seemed so sad........... you have a true poet's imagination and I really enjoyed the tale you told.

          • spilleronsheet

            Thanks a lot dear Fay
            I am so glad this piece could appeal your eyes
            And your praise spritzed my heart inside
            Thank you so much for your loving comment

          • sophin

            beautiful write, spiller. sometimes we do feel like wooden planks, drifting without control, hoping for life

            • spilleronsheet

              Indeed dear Sophin
              And like the wooden plank we go on drifting and riding upon on waves

            • FallenAngel1🕊

              Really touching spiller,that little plank has the heart of the little engine that could,...
              🚂 juga,juga,juga,jug,..😃✌🕊

              • spilleronsheet

                Sure dear Fallenangel
                It had the heart of keep going and working

              • Goldfinch60

                So many questions when you see those planks.

                Andy

                • spilleronsheet

                  Exactly those planks who dare to cross the vast river



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