A Poem by RoughWaterJohn

The sailors life


When sailors set for distant shore, with songs upon their ears
They dream of seas both fair and strong, to leave behind the tears
Of loves and those who dwell on land, and ne’er know the sea
Or Ports ‘O Call in distant lands, this yearning to be free

Desire steers this mighty ship, the compass is for naught
All hands on deck to man the ship, or pull the lines in taut
Snapping cloth of filling sail, is song to sooth the soul
Sea breaks sharp on dancing prow, the sun a burning coal

With months at sea and rations low, in dull and listless sea
They send a man to top ‘o mast, to see what he can see
With ‘glass to eye, no land in sight, he calls to weary crew
No land there be or swaying tree, just miles of distant blue

Each day the same as one before, their home a dream of yore
They long for land to step upon, this sea they now abhor
Climb aloft as done before, and raise spyglass to eye
Sighting land he shouts out loud, then breathes a gentle sigh

© 2012 RoughWaterJohn

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Added on October 1, 2012
Last Updated on October 1, 2012
Tags: sailing, ship, home, ports, sea, sun, land, spyglass



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