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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
Copyright ©
Deborah Burch
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