At times we feel trapped and stuck in a moment we cannot get out of…The feeling of lost hope and our struggle to fight off difficult times, feeling alone yet afraid to ask for help.
Stormy Seas ... a poem by Harlon Rivers
Mountainous waves toss the vessel to and fro
The ravaging Nor'easter impales with a deafening blow
Raucous salty sheets of spray soak and dampen all around
A bucket bails the raged sloop
She moans and groans as she’s flung about
A sailor sails. A sailor endlessly bails
Alone in the perfect storm
Two oars are manned on the stormy seas
The halyard torn and ripped from mast
To row and bail is an impossible feat
It’s hard to tell when you’ve sprung a fateful leak
The captain mans the forlorn skiff
Traditions sink down with the ship
His furious soul laments life’s toil
As violent waves crash the gunnels hold
He screamed out loud, “My time has come!”
“My ship is sinking, her broken pieces will not be found!”
The rampart boat, well fortified yet built to fail
Plummets from hills of water pitifully tall
Cracks are leaking where the lurid light gets in
But so does the salty water, will drowning soon begin?
Lost hope floats the helpless, fearless one man crew
His soul now guides his ship
A vessel drifts lifeless on the empty calming sea
Nothing but it can be seen for miles of skies
The free board is deep the salty water high
Two apathetic oars both silent, is a lost soul inside?
© November, 2011... Harlon Rivers
The ravaging Nor'easter impales with a deafening blow
Raucous salty sheets of spray soak and dampen all around
A bucket bails the raged sloop
She moans and groans as she’s flung about
A sailor sails. A sailor endlessly bails
Alone in the perfect storm
Two oars are manned on the stormy seas
The halyard torn and ripped from mast
To row and bail is an impossible feat
It’s hard to tell when you’ve sprung a fateful leak
The captain mans the forlorn skiff
Traditions sink down with the ship
His furious soul laments life’s toil
As violent waves crash the gunnels hold
He screamed out loud, “My time has come!”
“My ship is sinking, her broken pieces will not be found!”
The rampart boat, well fortified yet built to fail
Plummets from hills of water pitifully tall
Cracks are leaking where the lurid light gets in
But so does the salty water, will drowning soon begin?
Lost hope floats the helpless, fearless one man crew
His soul now guides his ship
A vessel drifts lifeless on the empty calming sea
Nothing but it can be seen for miles of skies
The free board is deep the salty water high
Two apathetic oars both silent, is a lost soul inside?
© November, 2011... Harlon Rivers
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