A Sailor Lost
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A poem I wrote for the many seamen lost at sea . . . and those with no one to lament their passing!
Oh Sleepless night oh Glory be
The stealth of nature burdens thee
As winter washes o'er the stones
Your cold caress doth sear my bones
An unfurled sail on straining yard
The banshee howls, its breath bites hard
Tossed from main, to fevered waters
To the open arms of Neptune's daughters
Oh sea, oh pearl oh wondrous treasure
Oh faith of mine, unmarked, unmeasured
No one I am, no one I've been
Fates overlooked, times overseen
The cold, the cold, right from the start
Pierces flesh and failing heart
Oh what of God, can he not see
My plight, my toil, oh Glory be
White horses race as noble steeds
Drawn breath from lungs no longer breathed
Your manic howls and fevered pace
Entomb my mind and ashen face
A sailor lost, as sailors must
No bed of clay, nor pillow dust
Unwatched am I from sightless bow
No comfort here will storm allow
My Cross to bear, this broken mast
Oh save me Lord, or make death fast
My cries unheard from ship nor shore
Will peal in vain, forever more!
Copyright © Peter Walsh | Year Posted 2023
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