Sailing home to England
o'er the bounding main
oh to see those white cliffs
fields of green and feel the rain again
sailed away for a year and a day
an albatross following t'was a good sign
with wings wide-spread overhead
'tween tropics weather was fair all was fine
sailors know where the trade winds blow
and trust their compass true
but my days a'roving the briny deep are now done
I'm rolling down a rhumb line arc to you
Standdown Day
USS Coral Sea—Spring 1979
standdown day
no flights
alone I stand upon flight deck
three football fields long
thousands of tons of solid steel
an insignificant gray speck
upon the bounding main
below decks five thousand sailors
and marines on a mission
some scramble, others grind on
some sleep
fourteen-hour days
seven days straight
now standdown day
dusk
gulf water mirror still
a vivid rainbow spans in
a high, full, majestic arc
horizon to horizon
night
below decks I pass berthing
areas crowded with
bed racks stacked three high
eerily quiet for a crammed
metal city
I must work through the
Night and into the morning
Looking forward always to
The next port
by Robert Gorelick
November 11, 2025
`
I sail my ship on a shining sea, her sails unfurled in the wind
a stiff breeze blows my hair and salt spray stings my skin
My ship plows through waves with whitecaps,
I set my course to the rising sun
I see the flying fish sail by and watch the Dolphins run
I stand on the deck as a Pirate King and I sail the bounding main
I seek my fortune in a distant land, there I drop my anchor chain
Treasures of gold and silver and rings on my hands,
My ship hole filled with cargo, I sail her home again
The sun rises on bright, clear morning
I wake in disbelief
What happened to my sailing ship?
Did it sail with a thief?
shoreless bounding main
veiled magic in such splendor
laughing at its yoke
Water Themed Haiku Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchen
08/14/2018
What source sends the singing that searches out man?
What spawns the silence before the sudden storms?
Yet, with all wisdom and with all his wonderful words
Man cannot tell nor discover where the wind is born.
The might that moves mariners over the bounding main,
Which molds mountains and makes mysteries for man
Yet gently gives play to the giddy youth of this age
As it pollinates the beautiful gardens still unplanned.
Frigid Snow, Fiery blast, Fractious Tornado, and flimsy breeze
All founded in figures shifting faster than fearless fantasy.
Yet, never turning from timeless tasks to trendy tales
The wind whispers and wanders throughout infinity.
VOUAGE TO THE NEW WORLD
They'd not begrudge the sea a whim
let loose three ships to sail the bounding main
and cheat dear Neptune dark and grim
from claiming what is gold to where he's lain
and Isabell she rid the nation clean
'fore Chris chould sail into the sunset red
expelled them every one that Spain had seen
lest they'd destroy the culture as 'twas read.
But many came and dipped into the brine
of Baptism, then Christianed, rose all wet
thus saved in Jesus as were thee and thine
as yarmikas were twisted in their fret.
Amid their Inquisition, light has shown
to lead then out of what's thier great unknnown.
© Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
A deep ocean under the blue,
And one in my heart.
The tides upsurging furious,and waters so high.
Just like vivacious thoughts In my mind.
With the only unconformity........
That plethora would go calm sometimes,
Unlike my spirit that would introspect at all times.
Because the ripples had pioneered the seashore,
But my soul bewildered far from its destination.
Written May 16th, 2013
Featured poem of the week- on Oct 11th, 2015
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