Sailor's Lament

"They sicken of the calm, who know the storm" - Dorothy Parker

Around this ruddy basket weave

A journey across crystal dream

Mirrored emptiness calm reprieve

Split and soar across frothy stream

To hidden lands of gold and green

Where myth is born from misty shore

And gods of stone once rigid lean

To cast their gaze on mossy floor

Through silken sand and turgid heat

Back into arms of mother sea

To cast your fate on billowed sheet

And ply the blue for future’s key

We sing this dirge upon our hearts

We who knew the lover, mother

That bore us on her starry charts

And forsook her for pale other

Now in cold and cautious retire

We await a black tempest scythe

To steal from us that once great fire

That’s become our last ember’s tithe

 

Author's Note

I wrote this just now, as I am feeling particularly homesick for the sea. Let me know what ya think.

Reviews

[lei]

and it's written so beautiful...

[Angel's Lady]

To hidden lands of gold and green
Where myth is born from misty shore - these lines especially but actually all of them remind me of Ireland.

She is a hard taskmaster, the sea, as well as a soothing caressing lover. Great write indeed.

[jennifer little]

wonderful poetry great job well done keep up the good work