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Wooden Ships

Ardent galleon cutting foamy high tide Each sliver born to venture yet farther Captain and lady, stout crew by their side, Still hailed by stalled gray frigate in harbor You’re bailing water again, foundering Says the unsubtle, frantic semaphore Wan efforts to stay afloat floundering Desperate colors, guilt cannot ignore Ours not the only ship with billowed sails Sure hands ride in closer proximity Yet only our craft you insist to hail Another failure for your litany Ere, as your crew, began my sailing craft On fair seas, through inky nights’ frozen rain How could I surmise, you color me daft, My apprenticeship owes eternal chains? Leaks in careworn hull not of our making A Dramamine rerun, your sophistry To sail in your wake, sadly mistaken Your dry dock is not our trajectory 5/9/16 © Thomas W. Quigley

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

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