A HARSH MISTRESS

I’d rather be out on the sea
than any place I know;
I long to float on ship or boat,
just rocking to and fro.

It’s like a balm when it is calm
or when it’s rough and stormy.
It helps to ease and can appease
the restlessness in me.

The moon/sunshine out on the brine
is a sight to behold
Of Davy Jones and Captain Bones –
great stories have been told.

It can inspire like brimstone fire
one’s imagination
Of clean white sands, of far-off lands,
of treasures lost and won.

Tales of ghost ships on fateful trips
of pirates Kidd and Bligh,
Sailing the main – Indies to Spain –
as skull and cross-bones fly.

A harsh mistress, some would attest –
those who rest in the deep.
Those taken by winds and waves high
are now in endless sleep.

A friend to man and to the land
if she takes a notion,
Though many drowned, shores changed around
by the raging ocean.

Men build (they think) ships that won’t sink,
but she’s a fearsome foe.
For if her want, she’ll tease and taunt
then send them down below.

Men have been bold since days of old
sailing from shore to shore.
Many were lost, their lives the cost
for thinking they knew more.

©Copyright Del ‘Abe’ Jones (Date Unknown)

Author’s Note: From my book, Moontides