Best Tacking Poems

The mellow western sky darkened, 
The sea was calm that night,
Yachts tacking across the bay
Towards their appointed piers.
Luminous moon rays shimmer 
Over wavelets that bathed
The coloured pebbles
Strewn all over the long shore.

As night slowly fell
I began my walk along the promenade.
A soft breeze was a...

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Flings and wings and rings rejected…
 Cupid’s arrows fly deflected…
“It clearly is too late” she signed, “to love, adore or pay me mind”

Penciled lines drew cruel conclusions
mocking mirror’s cracked illusions…
Sometimes, in time, I hang awhile, reflected in her parting smile

Drifting wan, below unheeding
worried, wounded suns...

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A light wind gently rocks our sailboat as
breezes begin to pick up on the sun drenched dock. 
Cable wires rap and tap upon the mast as
daylight filters thinly through the clouds. 
Egrets begin to peck around the gangway
foraging for scraps from bugs or grubs. 
Great...

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futures cavort below the horizon
  an expectant dawn glows, duly announcing the first born arrival
  tomorrow then forward smiles, feeling good
  half planned momentous moment, ordering fate, shaping survival

  surf wave crests on a rising tide of change
  present of...

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What have you gone and done?
All I gave forgotten, forge on alone
Born and then torn apart again
Navigation of ornamental pain

How, knowing this do I go on?
It cannot be that all hope is gone

Tacking taking towards winding wind
If you drag me down, my rage will be...

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The cruise ship charged 
Whistleless at my sail boat
In a narrow channel
Between Islands 
Of The Salish Sea.

I was powerless with sails up
Tacking against a current 
Knotted against me.
The water boiled.
I recoiled
In dread

I could see them
Cosmetic lazy travellers
Lounging unconcerned
Tending to their looks
As the mass 
Of their...

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Tents of various colours in parade across the sands
It's summer time in Brighton as the sun beams down so grand

Families too many to mention, on blanketed abound
Whilst laughter resonates from the children all around

Even nature has her say as the waves caress the shore
Just like...

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I may be poor
But yet I'm so rich
I count myself lucky
And so privileged.

I have a roof over my head
And a warm cosy bed
To rest my head.

Although my body is often weak
And I'm in a lot of pain
 My faith in God.
Keeps me sane.

I have enough...

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He clipped another one out of the news
The head on collision of Mr. Bob Hughes
Tacking it to his wall, he laughed to himself
Those trusting fools, he’d so kindly “helped”
He never thought he would like his work
But being a garbage man sure had its perks!

When stopped...

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Gone forever, the used ones
Never can it be set aside for future use
As food, fuel or money can be
Can it be stored like a pea?

Like a large swift river 
Ever flowing forward
Neither can be stopped nor delayed
Nor can thou use every drop flowing over

Moving in...

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Captain Bligh was his name,
he ruled his ship with an iron cane.
The Bounty was the ship,
sailing to Tahiti, via Cape Horn was the trip.
At Cape Horn, after tacking back and forth,
eastward, was set the course.
It was the long way round,
but they were still Tahiti bound.
After...

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A fat flouncy funky flunky house sparrow bobs and bows his way tacking like a clinker built  

dingy sailing across our sea of grass catching worms fattened by May's sun and showers ....

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Two, perhaps three miles out to sea, beyond the reef to Zapatillas,
Bocas’ dual sand-edged footprint jewels with jungle centre trees, 
Francesco’s outboard boat heads out to Caribbean’s deeper blue.

Where sun burns softer gringo skin, but canopy saves that paining hue 
from deceiving rays bounced bright...

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Her flawless beauty caught his eye
His head turned his heart followed
Skin of creamy translucency
Her body motion, he saw it flowed.

As a yacht upon the azure sea
Her body she sashayed down the street
Skilfully tacking from windward to lee
His eyes and heart all at once did meet.

His...

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Through pink glasses aiming Northward 
Arctic lights and arrows quiver 
The city life drags the final sword 
As a sugar shack lilts with the river 

The bow is his selenite 
Mantra to foe, making them shudder 
The amulet is his kryptonite 
A tiller man now...

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