As I engaged in pondering,
enjoying an apéritif of sherry wine;
I wondered where I’d find someone
to help sail this ship of mine.
I thought of a man I know,
he lives alone upon the main;
the finest skipper in the land,
everyone knows his name.
And it was he, the man I chose,
an expert at the helm;
who sailed across the sea with me,
a master of every realm.
We sailed for days upon the waves,
singing chanteys in the wind;
I trusted he would know the way,
as our voyage would soon portend.
Darkening clouds began to gather,
ghostly mists encircling ‘round;
he blew upon the foghorn
an eerily distorted sound.
The gusts blew louder than the call
of our frantic, lonely blast,
carrying forlorn sound waves
high above our mast.
But the skipper kept his wits about,
his eyes sparkled charm and grace;
harboring a happy heart,
peace was written on his face.
He began to sing a song,
notes as clear as crystal glass;
whistling as cheerful as a bird,
until the storm had passed.
He said, “Keep your bearings matey,
don’t give up the ship,
and never let the wind know,
it’s you who’s nearly whipped.”
But in my eyes, he saw the doubt,
and the anxiety and fear;
he shook his curly head and said,
“my good mate, listen here...”
“In this hurlyburly game of life,
is a tumultuous, headlong wind;
to keep this ship from going down,
you must sing a song, my friend.”
“Remember who is master,
and who is slave upon the waves;
we control these sails and rigging,
the wind is forced to obey.”
“Your ship is your training vessel,
and the sea your proving ground;
sing to the wind your best song,
and turn your destiny around.”
“When the storm’s gale subsides,
and the ocean’s smooth as satin;
your ship will still be sailing -
its hatches have been battened.”
“Now, one more thing,” he added,
tying a slipknot in his rope;
“make it a habit not to quit,
and never give up hope.”
Together, we sang in the breeze,
once fiercely howling - now appeased;
I’ve learned what a singing heart can do,
but change comes in small degrees.
So let your voice be your power,
know the power that you wield;
keep the faith, sail the wind,
and never, ever yield!
Author notes
This poem is a metaphor of living life...
In a list
Comments?
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
-
Outstanding
This is a fantastic poem - every respect, I liked the metaphor and also the way you described the voyage and the sailor. The flow is excellent and it is a great little story. Brilliant - a stunning poem.
-
-
Thank you!!! I am glad you like my poem!!!
And thanks a bunch for the kudos!!!
-
-
Incredible! I could smell the ocean and feel the mist! for that I stand up and applaud you!
-
Very beautifully written. Wonderful rhymes here. Thanl you for entering.
~Candy
-
Singing chanteys in the wind...so whimsical and delightful!
I like the second to last stanza,
Its brilliant!
This can be a true folk tale in so many arenas.
Early American,
European adventures,
and yet it pertains to every day life.
Take the helm,
Seize the day!
BLESSINGS ALWAYS,
LOWELL
-
very encoouraging write and put together within an awesome story. loved that last stanza: So let your voice be your power,
know the power that you wield;
keep the faith, sail the wind,
and never, ever yield!
very cool. thanks for sharin that. i really needed it. excellent
-
GReat mataphor and imagery you have relayed to the reader, i could visualise it all.
I sang my way through it.
Great job Cyn... expect another trophy!
Slán Dolores xx
xx
-
Absolutely glorious! I was singing along to it at this end
... did you hear me?? You clearly have some experience of the sea as you paint such an enchanting scene here. Best of Irish luck in the contest, hun!! xx
-
Bravo
Just a splendid write. Truly mazing & one of the very best I have read on AP
Adding your comment:
1 - 9 of 9
