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Best Boat Poems

Below are the all-time best Boat poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of boat poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Boat Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Boat poems are below this new poems list.

Sinking Paper Boat by sharma, anita
Giant Log Boat by Green, Daniel
THE ROCKING BOAT by Promise, Rainbow
A New Boat Owners First Emergency by Ray, Vincent
ROCKING THE BOAT by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
THE RIVER BOAT by dunn, cherl
A River Boat Gambler by kesting, tom
Bison The canal boat by Seal, Alexander
SEX AND THE BOAT by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
Origami Boat by Skelly, Delice Arleen

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The Best Boat Poems

Details | Boat Poem | |

Pirate Bay

```Pirate Bay the Haiku``` 

pirates fierce and mean 
drowning fish, sea to sea 
parrots on their butt 

```Polly Wants A Cracker``` 

bloodthirst & brutal 
Quartermaster Gone Wild 
dirty wings on deck 

```Sea World Adventure``` 
ship crew goes on strike 
sailing the Caribbean 
wooden leg splashing 


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

More great poems below...

Details | Boat Poem | |


In the heart of the blackest abyss, down, 
Down, in fathoms deep crypt, where light
Does not penetrate, and the structured protective hauls,
Of men, are crushed beneath pressures massive
Weight, of the oceans deepest depth.
This is truly inner spaces aquatic zone of the
Unknown, a realm of stilled silence frozen
In the icy currents of the barren straights.
Where prehistoric giants dwell, amongst the
Tidal flow, ambush predators, forgotten beasts,
From long ago, living krakens whom devour
All life, hidden within their dark domain.
In Poseidon's mighty anger, the waves answer,
To his fists of fury, hurricanes wrath of vengeance,
Gives birth to the perfect storms rage, 
Vessels rise and than fall in the tidal surging
Nay do the sailors cry out to the Lord God on high, 
For redemption's salvation, but the sacrificial altars must
Be appeased, by flesh and bloods sacred offerings.
Summons does the mighty lord of the seven seas,
To release the last of the ancient Leviathans.
Two thousand hands, of a thousand dead men,
Heave and pull at the tethering heavy chains,
To this devil of the depths cage.
From within interments vaulted keep,
Captivities living spawn from hell, is 
Unshackled and released, to reek havocs
Devastation above.
An aquatic spider, a maritime widow maker,
Flexing and in-flexing, its body’s motions,
Towards the surface, in pulsations rhythmic
Orchestrations, the gray giant is ready to strike,
With its killing arms extended wide, to grapple
At its unprotected prey, to engorge itself with
All living matter that it surveys, within its icy reach.
As bubbles shoot upwards breaking the waters
Surface, suction cups and talon claws are drawn
Outwards, aligning his eight legged tentacles of bone
Crushing death, behold the Giant Squid, instrument of
Lethal torture, a living killing machine from the fathoms 
Deepest depths.
For it is the beast, the true essence of evil
Incarnate, and none survive its destructive wrath.


Copyright © cherl dunn

Details | Boat Poem | |

One Tune

Looking divine a picture goddess 
jewels crowning gems sparkling magic 
shining beautiful moon princess dazzling light

At a regal glance priceless cut, shines out diamond
silver ivory full face over and back 
we dance into the milky way to paradise

In silver shadows we kiss holding sweetly our love
our souls sparkle together amazing dreams shine
this picture forever lives in the mind one treasure

Most adoring of all queens gracious 
sweetheart I pray soon one day we will always 
be together all I ever want to do deeply

Is make you smile embraced with happiness  
its dark here alone shining in all dreams
Light of a thousand stars halo shine around you babe
Silken ribbons whisper tenderly soft
in every thought a warm breeze sails 
Silently this boat to you on golden waves 

Only if you wish darling 
one in a thousand dreams that come true  
you're the  sweet night in gale singing inside always now in your tune 

Copyright © liam mcdaid

Details | Boat Poem | |

You, Me and the Open Sea

Just you, me and the open sea,
in a boat with a big white sail.
We’ll ride the surf and laugh with glee,
said the centipede to the snail.

We’ll point our boat towards the sun
as it sets on the edge of the land.
We’ll sing sea songs and have some fun
as we sail away from the sand.

You can search the waves for silver stars
to brighten the blackest night sky,
then catch them in your wee glass jars
before hanging them out to dry.

I myself will fish for a moon,
said the centipede with a smile.
I know I’ll net one really soon,
if not in a very short while.

We’ll light the dark with fairy lights
and just wait for a lullaby
of mermaids bringing golden kites,
then off to our dreams we will fly.

**I wrote this for my niece Ella on her third birthday

Copyright © Sharon Tideswell

Details | Boat Poem | |

The Lighthouse

The lighthouse stands, the lighthouse stands
Above the foaming wave,
Above the sands.

He stands so brave, he stands so brave,
As winds against him blow;
The ships to save.

He sends below, he sends below
His fiery, gleaming light,
The way to show.

All through the night, all through the night
He guards the lonely point
With torches bright.

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst

Details | Boat Poem | |

Reaching Deepest Oceans

My beloved How far will I love you As far as where moons immerse in deep seas Beyond the edge of a tide's crimson hue Where your breath fills my sails with soft zephyr breeze Lone I embark to our promised land Across borders of secret pain Under still stars,above drifting sand through anchored shadows of rain Oh foreign eyes,but never distant Your arms'safe harbour of a long embrace Two souls entwined,two hearts persistent Beneath night's sky,my lips outline your face Water rise, water falls between shores and time Empty spaces still abhore our love,sweet tender and sublime

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop

Details | Boat Poem | |


its white corlor bright
its wide
has map guild
over ride the tide
good or bad weather
will not fail
flow like a wale


Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr

Details | Boat Poem | |

the promised land

I look forward to that rising tide
The current has never been so low 
That we sail in style so calm
Rest deepens without panic 
The tweets sweeter than never 
The sun brighter than ever 

Mr sailor how did you stir on course? 
Because i still see us within the radar 
The arrow precisely points our destination 
It has disproved our dissolution 
And reproved our evaluation 

Could we have crossed over the red sea 
Because what i see now seems magical 
Falcons hover randomly above with joy they sing 
I thought it was a myth what they told us 
If we keep course, we'll get to that promised land
We'll bath in milk,roost in honey and bask under the hot supplies

This i saw so real
So sad it's only a dream.

Copyright © victor nwakanma

Details | Boat Poem | |

yinder yangsun

laughing the background shoveling into the depth of my mind
drawing a blank but insistent I never forfeit to submission iron the idol tactic is weakness I allow it the visits there are many I am alone and I dare to compete
listen only to my 3rd person when sized up in seconds the army lone side of my villa put the napalm to the childrens feet


Copyright © jason schropp

Details | Boat Poem | |

Golden Dreams

The Leprechaun.

Run, run, run as fast as you can...
I'm still gonna get you, my little green man...
I grabbed on to the gold buckle on his waist...
I held him down, with no time to waste...
I tied The Leprechaun to a hollow tree,
Broke off a branch and poked him on the knees.
I kept on poking him with a stick.
I kept nagging him to reveal his magic trick.

This little shamrock kid would not break.
He kept insisting THE LEPRECHAUN legend was fake.

This little odd dwarf kept lying about his mythical pot of gold. 
I kept repeating all the stories I've been told..  
Nagging him and nagging him~ FOR HIS POT OF GOLD!
He lied, about the fables, telling me his gold does not exist...
The Leprechaun refused to hear the clover list...


It's been 7 days!
And, still he won't give up, what's at the end of the rainbow. 
Tickling his little Eskimo toes,
Running feathers underneath his nose. 
"Look you little green treasure troll, I've captured you, and demand the gold!"
"You won't get me with your tricks!"
"So don't even try to outwit me with your silly MAGIC!" 

I suppose his silver-tongue, will have to do,
And the little gold buckles on his shoe.
I got tired of trying to make him see, my point of view.
I got a better deal and trade for a monkey at the zoo.
Now the lions are enjoying a Pot of Leprechaun Stew. 
After All! 
Nothing I did, made him unfold.
All I wanted was his pot of gold!


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Boat Poem | |

The Signal

The castle tower stands there tall and proud, 
Awaiting for your safely coming home, 
Just as I do, with tears that freely flow; 
Salt water tears that pool are not my own, 
The salty ocean droplets sting the eyes. 
I am alone, in sorrows well nigh drowned,
And you alone, amongst the raging tides.
This white cloth waves to you amid the winds 
That blow your ship to my own sandy shore -- 
My heart a wind-tossed stormy cloud no more. 

Up here beside the stately castle wall,
Enfolded safely home within your arms,
The tears that from my eyes unbidden fall 
Reflect your face alight with joys and charms; 
There lie forgotten all my dread alarms. 
I am with you, by jubilation drowned, 
And you with me, the waves a distant sound. 

By Kelly Deschler, September 7, 2013  Form: Iambic Pentameter
And Isaiah Zerbst, September 14, 2013  Form: Rhyme Royal

Based on the painting of the same title by William Powell Frith, 1858

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst

Details | Boat Poem | |

The River

Before the weary pilgrim, flowed a river fair and wide
The way was filled with danger,  he couldn't cross the other side;
So the pilgrim sought another to be his expert guide
With a boat that could take him through the surging tide.

The sailor man was strong and he steered the boat so well
Or did the river bear the boat?  It was so hard to tell;
The sailor told the pilgrim of the signs that he might seek
Of the secrets of the river and the message it would speak.

Then the pilgrim felt the peace so he listened and he heard
The murmer of the river and sighs of whispered word;
He heard the river laugh and then he heard it cry
And the pilgrim heard the message as sad tears filled his eye.

He heard the drums of war in the torrent of the rain
And the awful cries of anguish that he never could explain;
Was there a reason for the crossing, or where the river ran
Was there another reason for the journey of this man?

He heard the sounds of death, he heard the sounds of mirth
But nothing that he heard gave tribute to the earth;
The sounds were fused together till they reached a common goal
And the quiver of his heartbeat found a cadence in his soul.

The river lost its birthplace and embraced the open sea
And the pilgrim gave his thanks on reverent bended knee
He opened up his eyes as the sunrise slowly died
But the sailor man had gone and the boat rocked on the tide.

The river filled his veins till the two at last were one
While the tide rolled on forever and earth went round the sun;
The pilgrim was the river and the boat and sailor man
Were the journey of the song, the singing river sang.

This is my adaptation of "The Ferryman" by Herman Hesse


Copyright © elizabeth wesley

Details | Boat Poem | |

Sea World

under water guide
adventures of Jacques Cousteau
life Under the Sea


Copyright © Dom- X-

Details | Boat Poem | |

Past Proposal

The sun left the sky as I lay on the sand with a three diamond ring resting cold in my hand I lay in the place where I once wrote your name Till soft ripples of waves lapped in silence on shore and washed it away I can still see you there whispering in my ear and beneath a half moon can still freeze our time in the shadow of your tear I remember that night Our arms in embrace I saw love in your eyes and mourn on your face I remember those lights as the ship sailed at bay I remember our dream built on castles of clay Unforgotten your voice though lost in the mist Years in waiting,a return My lips still unkissed I wonder if your fingertips remember my hair If in your serene sleep You imagine me there? Or,Have you forgotten the promise we shared Through new perfume of women Does this heart go unheard?

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop

Details | Boat Poem | |

From our Deck-Front in December

our pink deck with a Jarra  cocktail table-set
We sit awaiting  sunset with an
 ‘Hawaiian absence’ of seagulls
As dusk comes  with violet echoes
across the spotted water,
from the resturaunts
 comes a wine hubbub - table- laughter

Mountains, marshmallowed
in occasional cloud on this still night- 
constant torchlight on quiet water
un-moving palms, paddle sounds

A swanky stingray drifts past

A shadowed water taxi 
and strangers who wave at us 

 Suzanne Delaney

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney

Details | Boat Poem | |

A Lover's Duet

The farmer's pond was still and dark
the boat was small and light
two lovers they did disembark
their pleasure to excite,
all on a summer's night.

He rowed them out and let them float
into his arms she came,
the dense pine cloaked, kept them remote
two lover's sought their claim,
their passions so inflamed.

She felt him smile, as off he leapt
from boat to waist high lea,
he beckoned her into his keep
a groom and his beauty,
all night's passions to foresee.

On the soft sand, the fertile land
he pledged his troth to she,
as maid and man blessed the soft sand
with raucous revelry 
lovers in harmony.


Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Boat Poem | |

My hovercraft is full of eels

I'll try to tell you without my usual cant
that all I wanted was to go sailing with
Sherry Saturday morning but I can't!
My hovercraft is full of eels!

The watchman phoned when I was lying  
in bed to notify me of this.
I was shocked to find he wasn't lying!
My hovercraft is full of eels!

My good-will has been weakened
because of this horrid event
which completely ruined my weekend.
My hovercraft is full of eels!

These morbid creatures are serious
party-poopers. Remember!: Their
electricity is deleterious.
My hovercraft is full of eels!

My beloved Birthday present invaded by
these heinous monsters! I will have to buy  
a new one 'cause to this one I must say bye!
My hovercraft is full of eels!

Ghastly! You don't know how this feels!
My hovercraft is full of eels!

Copyright © Ivo Cosentino

Details | Boat Poem | |

The River Mersey and The Black Pearl New Brighton

 The River Mersey and The Black Pearl New Brighton 

Let the Caribee and sultry sea call to the pirates bold. 
But on this shore, with its tales of lore, The Mersey keeps its hold
For merchants, priests and pirates too left these docks to find
A new life abroad with bible or sword, leaving their old life far behind

They ventured near and ventured far across the seven seas
Across foreign lands, jungles and sands and swamps way past their knees
And though they prospered, lived and fought in many a distant place
The Mersey’s banks beckoned them as fast as its tidal pace

No matter where in the world they are they’ll never forget the sound
Of the Mersey’s constant ebb and flow or the feel of the sandstone ground
So dream and wander; take to sea and soothe your wanderlust
For you know that within yourself, you’ll return - and that’s a must

Whether mortal body, spirit or mind, or everlasting soul
The wanderer always returns to the place that made them whole
Empires built and Empires lost and many a treasure gone
There’s always the constant, aching yearn by each and every one

To step on this land, on the Mersey sand, or mud up to their shin
And reminisce of the old ferries and the loud New Brighton din
To sail across the river on an ancient battered boat
That’s survived the years of ravages and yet still remains afloat 

The Black Pearl’s every timber was washed upon the beach
Beyond salvage from wrecks of ships, beyond anybody’s reach
Returning too to their resting place they floated harmlessly
Or tossed upon the sandstone rock with a tempest’s cruel fury 

Her many flags fly from her masts as if in a never-ending toast
To ships and boats of every size and shape from every coast
They too salute this edifice of flotsam, debris and waste
As they sail from mighty Liverpool to beat the tide as they make haste

But Black Pearl is deeply anchored with piles into the rock
Her builders come from all walks of life, from every social stock
She thrives on more additions from visitors galore
And let’s their imaginations carry them further still and more

To the Caribee and the sultry sea and to pirates in their coves
To the hidden buried treasures and stories of wealth and loves
Children young and children old and children in between 
Can stand upon her shipshape decks and be what they want to seem

For the Black Pearl’s made of magic and stories still untold
And to all who step upon her decks she lets their tales unfold
So climb aboard and let’s set sail and ride the river’s waves
And never move a moment amid stories of lagoons and caves

Let the stories wash and ebb and flow and be spun with yarn and jest 
Cast off the fetters of your mind and let your tales just be the best
Close your eyes, feel the breeze and smell the salty air 
Allow your fantasies to unfurl, like the flags fluttering there.

Copyright © Thomas Mansfield

Details | Boat Poem | |

Day of the Storm

It's the summer of 1993. My husband Joe, having suffered a recent nervous breakdown, is now enjoying a sunny day at the lake with me and our two teen kids. We have rented wave runners that my son and I are riding alongside the boat that my husband and daughter are in. We decide to moor the boat at a beach area, where we lay out a blanket to enjoy our lunch. Suddenly, I feel drops of rain.

our children's laughter
 my husband's smile. . . 
the darkening sky

  The slow heavy droplets develop into an assault of angry pounding rain. We rush to our boat to get back to the dock twenty minutes north of us. Once in the water, the wind strengthens;  mighty moving ridges came rolling before our eyes. Fear grips my heart, and I hear my 13-year old son begin to sob. “It will be ok,” is all I can think to call out though I feel helpless trembling in the downpour. 

All at once, a billow heaves itself completely over our boat. Joe and our daughter begin desperately bailing out water as it grows higher. My son and I need to go ashore and bring back help. I now understood the meaning of wave runners, for I am running for all our lives as my heart beats to the rhythm of the lake’s surging waves. 

alone with nature
my spouse and daughter. . . 
the slow-sinking boat

   My son and I manage to find help, but after they rescue my husband and daughter, the park rangers drag the boat (my husband's favorite possession, for the relief from stress it provides him) upside down back to the dock. The boat is destroyed. My husband cannot seem to function. The once sunny day has become a nightmare, and the worst – by night - is yet to come.

our children's cries
as my husband blankly stares. . . 
my unheard pleas

NOTE: A long time ago, I had written two different haibun on this unforgettable experience from my younger days. The original ones were not well written because they were done in the past tense. Seeing definitions of Haibun today, I am seeing that they need to be in the present tense. I am still not sure I am doing it right, but after much revision, I have pared down the originals and tried to combine them into this. Maybe I just need to do one that is not so sad!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Boat Poem | |


Solitary on my raft
Drifting peacefully away from the anguish towards sanctuary

The land becomes distant and harder to see.
Hurt subsides gradually and security softens my body 
as the expanse of the ocean beckons me towards freedom

Languidly floating. Barely noticing.
Daydreaming of a burdenless future. 
Harbingers unnoticed

Winds pick up
A swell begins
Almost imperceptible at first
Rocking, sickening

Intensity builds
More ominous, threatening
Thrashing, disorienting

Caught in the curl
Lungs constrict
I cannot breathe or call for help

There is no help anyway

Flailing wildly, finally grasping a piece of my shattered vessel
Bobbing to the surface, I can gasp for air 

But start to drown in my own soul instead as the pain returns

My limp form is tossed by the final crash of the wave
It draws away
I land on the beach where I started
Abandoned and spent on the sand

I pick myself up and search for wood to build another raft.

Copyright © Andrea Doherty

Details | Boat Poem | |

going to the moon

             i'm going to the moon tonight 
              in a boat with big white sails 
              and you can come too if you want too 
              just the two of us 
              in a boat with big white sails 
              going to the moon 
              we'll sit real close and huggle to keep warm 
              and i'll sing for you if you want me too 

Copyright © Earl Graham

Details | Boat Poem | |

Part of Me

There's a part of me that still lives on the water
A part of me that you can never keep
Tears fill my eyes as I dream  of the ocean
I see that island paradise in my sleep

My fishing boat lies sleeping in the harbor
Anchor weighing heavy on the ocean floor
I still miss all those nights at sea
My fishing boat will sail again no more

This was the life that I had chosen
From one port to another I would roam
Never stayed long enough to be familiar
Never knew a place I could call home

Sometimes I walk along the shoreline
Listening to her song out on the sea
That's when I know that someday I'll be leaving
The song she's singing is calling me

There is something magical in a night at sea
There's a million stars hanging all around
Untold stories lying behind me
New horizons yet to be found

Now that my sailing days are over
And my life is shifting gears
I can still resurrect those memories
When I taste the salt in my tears.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr.

Details | Boat Poem | |

A Letter To Santa Part One Please read first

As I lie near the covers all cosy and tight
I smile when I think Santa’s coming tonight
Most of the Prezzies are under the tree
But Mum say’s Santa’s coming especially for me
I wrote him a letter which I put in the mail
Asking him to bring me a boat I could sail
Down by the lake with my best friend Ted
And maybe with Susie, Tim, Alice and Ned
I added some kisses and promised I’d be good
Not to make a fuss and to do as I should
In my boat we’d be Pirates and sail the Spanish Main
Or men in a trawler, fighting storm and hurricane
Or explorers in the Antarctica seeing what was up
Or maybe the crew on the America’s Cup
Or we’d join the Navy, pretend my boat a sub
We might even form a secret sailing club
W hen we got to shore we’d drink slurpiees by the tub
Discuss our adventures and eats lots of grub 
I put in a request for Susi’s new hair
She hates it when the kids at school always stare
Alice a doll and Ned a fancy guitar
My sister a boyfriend and  Dad a new car
Susie say’s cause he Jewish, Santa can’t give to Tim
I reckon she’s bonkers, Santa can’t forget about him
He needs new braces and a new teddy bear
As he gave his to Peter when he lost all his hair
I know Timmy’s Jewish, but so was God’s son
And they say the Lord Jesus he loves everyone
I asked Santa to help my Parents, not worry about me
For the Lord, my friends not to take to heaven with thee 
For Peace in the world, joy and content
To stop all the fighting and unemployment
To give Mummy roses and a great big hug
For the Doctors and nurses let me do a jitterbug
So as I lay near the covers all cosy and tight
I’m glad Santa’s really coming tonight       (continued)

Copyright © Lizzie Treetop

Details | Boat Poem | |

The Boatmans Song 1/ Many

1/ To be continued in many parts

It was a different era and it’s a different story
Of a boatman and his enchanting melodies 
An Apsara* falling in love with that boatman 
But the boatman having a different love story  

The boatman used to carry simple villagers 
From one bank of the river, to its other bank everyday
While moving his boat on the river  
He used to sing those heart touching stories 

His voice in itself was a melody 
Bestowed on him by the Goddess Saraswati*
And his love songs were the songs of true love stories
Sung by the boatman, in full throated ease and beauty
While oaring his boat in the river side stream
Flowing between a Jungle, on one bank side of the river
And long sand dunes spreading  
All over the other non ending side of the river Ganges

Charmed by boatman’s voice and songs
And charmed by the beauty of the enchanting Jungles* 
Spread all along the one side bank of the calmly flowing river Ganges
His passengers used to get lost in the melodies of his songs
So long as his boat was moving from the sand bank of the river stream 
To its Jungle end every time the boatman carries some passengers

One day the echoes of his melodies crossed 
The airy levels of earth and started flowing
Like a soothing cool breeze, even in heaven
And charmed all the heavenly bodies in the court of Indra*
He listened them almost spellbound and became enchanted 
By the echoes of those unheard melodies of the boatman

Urveshi* who was a crown beauty among the Apsaras* of Indra* 
And was much more than, beautiful and charming
Among all the Apsaras of heaven, found her lost in hearing
The echoes of those love songs sung by the boatman 

Urvasi found one day after hearing those echoes 
That she was in love with them and became restless 
To hear the real songs of the boatman, while sitting before him
In his boat in the river Ganges on earth 

Urveshi asked the Lord of Heaven Indra*
If she can go to earth to hear the songs of the boatman
As the echoes of his songs had made her restless beyond imagination
She found that even she can not enjoy the heavenly pleasures
Till she quenches her thirst of listening the melodies 
Of that boatman, he was singing on earth

Kanpur India 4th January 2010

* Apsara=   A Nymph dancer of heaven in the court of Indra as per Hindu Mythology 
* Indra=   The Lord of Heaven as per Hindu mythology
* Urveshi=   One of the most beautiful Apsaras (nymph) of Indra 
* Saraswati = Goddess of knowledge, music & arts as per Hindu mythology
* Jungle =  Forest

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor

Details | Boat Poem | |

The Lake

The lake was only small
But we boated.
Not far to go...

Back and forth
On the little lake
And watching the boat go.

Back and forth and go  -
Using up the day
That won't return.

Copyright © Julia Ward