storm

dusk arising

 

 

 

the storm had subsided
morning dawned like a vanquished beast
                                                     waking from a duel
across the beach a small gathering
                     picked its way through newfound debris
crushed upon the rocks in the now falling tide
                              a small sailing vessel of yesterday
her ugly angle spoke of hullplates smashed
          rags of sail hanging limply on tormented rigging
those rocks would be exposed at low ebb  
                                                      and break her back
what cargo she carried were the worrys of each mind
what profit here to be taken
                                         from storms chance delivery
everyman greedily eyed the other
                     for first in would take the heart of plunder
let there not be a live soul aboard
              or they shall meet a watery grave this foul day
twas then i caught her movement,
                                           a wash of green in the prow
was it imagined or, no,      ... there it was again
hardened scroungers amidst their evil
                   were too keenly eyed on each others intent
they had not seen her
entering the receeding swell
                     i let fall my jacket and cast away my shoes
this beach was my plaything since first steps had
              let me know her rolling sand and shifting curves
i knew her beneath these waves
                                and the games she'd play a stranger
now onto my back, staying low in the water
                                     slowly propelling myself seaward
had i been spotted i could not tell,.. my ears below water
my eyes beheld a seabird and little else
                                                        bar the miserable sky
were i seen, a musket ball would greet my final breath
this day would be my last should i fail to achieve
                                               seaward of the sorry vessel
aching limbs now sighing with relief
                                              to hear her anguished pains
creaking and groaning upon the swell                               
                                   as her hull entered its death throws
there! my chance! ..diving beneath her keel
                                                         i surfaced to seaward
now out of sight of the beaches rabble
                                         i beheld the larboard side of her                        
a plaque bearing "estrella de la mañana" on her bows,
                                      a spaniard mateloe's pride and joy
'hello' i bellowed 'hello!'..........
she peered through the spintered gunwhale 'are you alone'
staring eyes, ....'come with me, you are in danger here.
                                                     .....i have a boat close by'
the frightened girl now raised her head
                       and beckoned a 'go away' motion toward me
finding nearby footing on the rocks
                                                    i hauled out and squatted.
pointing toward the beach i shook  my head
     and drew my finger across my throat then pointed to her
her eyes became fire and she rushed along the deck
                                                    holding onto the gunwhale
'hello' i shouted, pointing first to her then myself
                i made swim jestures and pointed along the coast
finally making rowing movements with my hands.....  
                                                       she stared    ....i nodded
repeating my cut throat jesture toward the beach
                            i lost my footing falling back into the briney
surfacing i watched her leap off the craft
                                    and smile toward me as she regained
seemingly at ease with the ocean i beckoned  'follow me'
swimming across and against the tide
                        the prize of landfall found me near exhausted
heavy footed without the buoyancy of saltwater
                                                    i staggered toward the cave
shivvering within its coldness,
                         i tapped my chest saying 'dusky'
                                              .....her eyes,..her face, beautiful
staring at me with lowered head
                                        she touched her chest ......'graciana'   
'we must hurry' i pulled the small boat of my childhood
                 out and down the beach with graciana pulling it too
reaching the water line graciana put her hand on my arm
                       and looking into my eyes drew her face to mine
kissing softly a thrill wrent my body,
        she was holding a small black purse,
                                    taking my hand.....placed the purse in it
she made a gesture touching her chest
           then casting her open hand palm up toward me
                   giving me the purse   ....which i untied and opened
inside was a large ruby gemstone finely set in gold
            on a gold chain and two gold rings one large, one small
looking back to the wreckage then swiftly back to me
                                                   she suddenly pushed me hard
together we drew the boat into deeper water
tapping my arms again as i placed the oars in the rollocks
                      she shook her head and pointed toward the stern
i took my seat in the stern and watched
  as this beautiful young woman began rowing me into my future
a terrible ringing sound filled the air
                           damn that alarm clock.....  it ruins everything !!!

  • Author: dusk arising (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 6th, 2022 07:37
  • Comment from author about the poem: again, something from 2017.
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 28
  • Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell
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Comments +

Comments6

  • Bella Shepard

    I love a good story, and this was a gem. The scene beautifully set, the characters come to life. And just when it gets really good, well that's the way dreams are. Didn't see that end coming, but it made it all the more enjoyable.

  • sorenbarrett

    An epic tale or maybe tail. From history to film to childhood to dream my thoughts drifted and wove in and out. Nicely done.

  • Paul Bell

    I've always noticed when that alarm goes, it goes at that point, usually the pivotal point. I've also noticed you can't re-dream dreams, and that's so frustrating.

  • Christina8

    Goodness gracious that alarm clock ruins everything! What a great story! A very enjoyable read. Beautiful!!

  • Jon Nakapalau

    Vivid images - inspired!

  • Goldfinch60

    Wonderful words d a and a great big laugh at the end, my first laugh of the day, thank you.

    Andy



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