My Sophia
Marooned alone on my Sophia on the high seas,
Watching merciless winds uproot distant island trees;
With my fleet dead and none to command,
Alone I pilot my darling with an unsteady hand.
The roars strip her off her sail,
The waves plunder and wreck her bosom hale,
And she comes crashing down with a wail,
And the last sound I hear that night of relentless gale,
Is my Sophia’s goodbye so weak and so pale.
I wake up the next day alive in safe sands cast,
By a piece of log from my Sophia’s mast.
Copyright © Le Incendié | Year Posted 2007
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