When Last Seen She Was Holding on Tightly
When last seen, she was clutching
a long thin
strip of navy blue velvet and near
bent double,
somewhere near to the grasp of
her middle ..
And in so doing she thus, allowed
the hem
of her slip, to go on public display ..
Oh’ come
and sail with us, the sailors did sing ..
Yes come, see how
she swings like a brassed pendulum
sways ..
When last she was seen, she was seen
holding a
bottle green velvet, measure of satin ..
Fit for a lady,
or queen even, so fine a piece of cloth
it then was ..
Yet still, she was creased close to the
weave of her middle ..
And in so being, allowed the hem
of her fine
cotton camisole to splay far too near
a torn seam,
somewhere down near the midline ..
And all of them
sailors did roar, come and play with us ..
This gall
she can pitch, like a galleon might pitch
in a raging
south westerly squall and when last she
was seen,
she was holding a new babe in both arms
all wrapped in a
dirty, cream coloured, silk shawl and both
appeared to be starving ..
And still the sailors did sing, come and play
with us lass,
we shall make it alright, come the morning ..
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Comments6
Oo arr Jim, she be knowing what t'is all about - look, the evidence be in her arrrms...
If she goes with 'em she won't have much use for her attire...could I have it ? (You never know your luck in a big city come Saturday night....)
Definitely smelt the salt and fresh breeze there, Neville.
Thanks Dave .. much appreciated sir .. Neville
Some how I'm visioning New York Sounds like fleet week, when the sailors come home to visit. ❤️
Yo ho ho & a bottle of asti spumenti ❤️
Heave away indeed Neville.
"Show a leg!"
Andy
Ooh' err Matron ................ 😎⚓👍
Ahh, so you've met KP, and she told you one of her adventures. lol.
a gentleman neva tells ..
Thank you Max and without wishing to repeat my self, the answer is yes .. 😎🍷cheers 👍
reality is vulture's feast
while the brave fight to survive
decorated in camouflages
seeking a small space in life
where malice
wasn't trying
to barge down the door, again
eyes that rape
every time a breeze lifts
the velvet helm of armour,
our heroine's labour beneath...
(your words always sink deep
within that empathetic sea of tragedy
that is humanity)
I bow to your superior HEART
dear Poet supreme!
its mid afternoon and my mornings just finished .. but you just made my day brother Mek .. N
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