Email Poem

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Poem

in the arms of mother nature
drifting with the tide 
winds pushed up ice water mountains
the voyage home was to be a hard ride
water broke the wheelhouse window
charts floated as the boat tipped down

and when she came back
the radar went black

please God don't let us
run aground

the minutes slowed down to hours 
a crew of nerves with fingers numb
from the North Atlantic showers
hearts beat fast while bailing pumps hum

the darkness and the fury played 
a thousand violins
while the twisting wet
seasoned plank shrieked in the high winds

when we lost all of the power
the boat spun around

cold and soaking wet
could feel the warm sweat

please God 
don't let us run aground

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