My boat calls me, my siren of wind
To be free the brick cells I dwell
And sail her water’s song again
My boat calls me, my siren of wind
This craft who is my truest friend
Finding peace in that rudder spell
My boat calls me, my siren of wind
To be free the brick cells I dwell
Author notes
picture from photobucket.com
A contest entry
- Triolet PIF by carole21.
750 points, ended October 15, 2008, 8 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Very nice triolet Dad.
I love the opening line! It is a great one
LOVE,
Delila
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A Beautiful triolet---Excellent imagery as well as an abundance of metaphore.
Well Done & Best of luck in the contest!
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not often i see you write in form, but not to my surprise how well you do it... jeesh. is there anything you can't do? do you sail? good luck in the contest.
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I enjoyed
the 'call' as it rephrained through the poem. Both want to escape they moor, but both need each other. The reference to purpose also runs through this poem. Frans
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I like the picture. And while I don't know much about boating you made it seem interesting. Good job
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this was wonderful
such a beautiful image
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nicely done . . thanks for the contest entry
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