(Standing Athwart) new nautical poem, will you c/c if you may?
The storm descended down the Straights,
't was Lorenzo fixing sails at the backstay,
me gangway, the bargermast'r, Jim Bates,
working ropes, on mainsail aft and forestay.
Northern wids barked like dogs, the gust,
lifted the batten, boat tilted off to port bow,
lowered the cent'rboard and hull, to thrust,
like a curse of Demons, on deathly draw.
I lost Jim Bates, suddenly as he unreeved,
went off; sea waves thrushed to sternway,
Lorenzo fought at the top-gallant, bereaved,
and Angelo Corto was holding timenoguy.
Steersman did pilot fine; me on th' ganwale,
to lower the spreader, even at a gust blow,
we had the mainsail torn, and guff-topsail,
to guide gust's force to th' jib bendin' slow.
I saw them; 't was abeam to starboard, dark,
heard eerie spells callin' Lorenzo off board,
blab out in void, on deathly mode to torque,
trasfixed will, and I yelled with voice barred;
Corto slowly disolved, in dispirited lament,
strong manly skills, toughened on bearings,
collapsed, the bargermast'r left rope's extent,
as both followed undefined ode's pitching.
Alone I was, in an enchanted role to depart,
recalling a voice of melody, coastal Pacific,
to castigate destiny, top-standing athwart,
and it was that emptiness in heart, somnific.
somnific = sleep inducing
Copyright © - G. V.- 03.01.2012
© PoemH 30063486
S5 L4 trasfixed ---- transfixed
- lovechildLv 78 years agoFavorite Answer
Very nice, I was actually hearing the sea as I read this...