Her Soul, The Sea (The Ship)

A nice nautical Iambic pentameter.

Her Soul, The Sea (The Ship)

The shadows deigned in precise sequence

where skylines have conducted fore the ship,

its blackened sight to boss the thought and sense

of sailors that imagined its long trip.

The Northern wind was cutting like a knife,

injurious, its messages behowled,

equilibrating on the brink of life

of the foregone to seas, the thinking prowled.

The ship's black smoke ascended to the skies

from supercilious tall funnels, smog,

bestowing sacrificial offing size

to sovereign Gods that lived inside the fog.

The tidal and enshrouding foaming spills

advanced the dusk, advanced the bawling horn's

unearthly sounding out; the flowing rills

retracted in the sea its crying mourns.

In front of us, the ship's displacement thrilled

approaching, so, magnificent the moors;

Her Soul the Sea, her eulogy instilled

inside our minds and souls, where faith adjures.

Pristine the sea, baptized the scene in depths

where psyches stay in canted-over keels,

deceptive were the reasoned-out percepts,

infused where catastrophe conceals.

The night descended when the ship's steel gaze

examined curious and measured me,

proposing wedlock and a fate of blaze,

my competence, demanding, in the sea.

Across the Straits, young lady Sadness kissed

with ripping cold my twenty years and eyes,

resembling Her Soul, the Sea, amidst

the Northern winds that howled and my demise.

© 10-15-2013 G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved

(Iambic Pentameter)

Author's Note

Please, do not edit or re-organize the text. Thank you.