Deborah Burch Poet Quatrain

The Scow

The Scow

Unsteady on the bow he stands
As waves wash o're the deck
Upon "The Scow" is heard...ALL HANDS
To help avert a wreck. 

Each night the stars convey our path
To south seas we are bound...
But tempted we, Poseidon's wrath...
Now pray we're not all drowned 

As lightning strikes the Quarter Mast 
Great billows sweep him fore
Beyond the bow...his eyes are glassed...
Each sailor watched him soar. 

A sinister, surmounting cloud 
Impales its inky heap
And pulls us down...the depths we plowed...
Through boneyards of the deep. 

2.25.2017©deborah burch 

Quatrain

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David Pekrul March 5, 2017 at 2:00 PM Nice feel of a great pirate poem. Paints a stark picture of a rough voyage. Deborah Burch March 5, 2017 at 2:07 PM Thank you David for you kindness. :)

Doug Vinson February 28, 2017 at 11:32 PM Not messing about here, Deb. : ) It hails of all the magic, mystery and danger of the deep ocean. And - barely over half a year until September 19. Deborah Burch March 2, 2017 at 5:50 PM Indeed!!! Thank you bunches Doug! Big Hugggs. Deb

Chris Green February 28, 2017 at 5:58 AM Makes me want to growl, Arrrrrr Matey. :) This was very good Deb. I like the feeling I experienced when reading this. Deborah Burch February 28, 2017 at 9:22 AM Thank you Chris...so good to see you here. Hope all is well with you. :) big hugs deb