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
Sailing far beyond the fading shore,
Dusk till dawn, laboring at the oar,
Ears acquainted with the ropes and cleats,
While the mind races where the ocean meets.
Wounds of the heart evade the brush,
Loneliness weeping in the evening hush,
Smiles are buried deep and out of sight,
As hands grow frozen in the dead of night.
Dream the restless waters bloom in rows,
Where ocean winds wrap like a warm embrace,
Drift on the vessel, letting worries go,
And find your harbor in this quiet place.
Sailing the tropics of loneliness
as the moon sails the sea of night
with only stars to guide me
and dreams ‘til you’re beside me
it’s destiny and the future’s looking bright
walking the deserts of emptiness
as the sun burns the sands of time
I bless the day you found me
now I want your arms around me
c’est la vie you are the reason to my rhyme
they say no one cares but I do
these days no one shares but I do
it’s not their affair to have faith in prayer
or believe in love but I do
I do speak my mind and I come through
I follow my heart and I do love you
on the lazy river
sailing down on my fun raft
time is standing still
Billy Shiel runs boat trips
On sunny northern days
Towards the Longstone Lighthouse
A pinnacle of the waves
Past two hundred thousand sea birds
A rare sight to behold
Sometimes even a seal or two
Come close if feeling bold
But it's the lighthouse Billy loves the most
The edge of land and sea
If only he didn't have bills to pay
Longstone is where he wants to be
"Do people really change or just the date on the calendar that really changes???" By Poet
"In the mists of your eyes,"
I found raw passion.
As I talk to you,
you "Burn me with your love poison."
I cannot go on like this,
you are tearing me apart.
I hope one day,
"I will find you beyond the stars."
In a peaceful and loving world,
as we live separately.
Maybe we were not meant to be together,
just sailing on the blue waters.
"Where the sky drifts into the sea,"
where we both can find ourselves.
I will let you go now.
"Leashed to your dusk."
Tall, proud, somewhat conceited,
the elegant yacht sailed into the bay
(a place of meetings,
snuggery to a medley of lesser idols)
as a swan takes to a lake.
It dropped anchor,
aloof from the rest,
aware of the stare of covetous eyes,
it basked in calm waters.
Come night, its garland of lights
illumine the grace of a presence;
a rarity, speaking of riches,
unimaginable wealth;
dipping and bowing in exaggerated gestures:
a language all its own.
At the break of day, it set sail once more,
on a broad reach leaving the barnacled bay behind,
distancing itself from the blue bay’s waters,
the green of its eyes.
Yet, miles away on a distant shore,
once fierce waves, now a dying wake
make a gentle ripple
shifting the sands of envy
even as memory of its billowing sails
vanishes over the horizon
urged on by the persistence of protective winds.
(1st Prize in Craig Cornish's A Broad Reach Contest)
Mountain breezes blow
White sheet billows on blue sky
Gliding past the pines
Endless water lies ahead
Sail Lake Winnipesaukee
‘When will I anchor here again?’
The sailor’s heart then cried.
He asked it of the wind and wave,
but ‘shh’, the sea replied.
The horizon called and still he stalled,
looking long from the landward side.
He wanted to shout his farewell out,
but ‘shh’, the sea replied.
The mist began to veil the hills
where he left his weeping bride.
Would she hear his wretched sad goodbye?
But ‘shh’, the sea replied.
The captain’s call and the bosun’s pipe
could not now be denied -
so he whispered prayer to return back there,
but ‘shh’, the sea replied.
And for all the moons and different stars
and a thousand change of tide,
he raged to be away from home,
but ‘shh’, the sea replied.
The storms blew and the cannons roared
and somehow our sailor died.
His bonnie over the ocean wept
and ‘shh’, the sea replied.
Running towards
self driven passion,
I rock the boat filled
with past anchors,
and I tied them down
with beckoning ropes,
inviting dear life
to resist the restraints
placed by overbearing
mothers and fathers.
Contusions earned
by pondering along
rapid waves but
the breeze is mutual
as I welcome all
that comes my way.
No longer caught
in the nets of
imprisonment,
I set sail letting go,
without holding back,
as life is a tidal wave
carrying you across
back and forth
to destinations
unknown,
forthcoming
endlessly.
The glossy midnight blue
we observe within the folds of our galaxies
when we chart maps
and connect constellations.
The hue that encompasses luminous stars
with azure veils sailing well into
eternal night on the seas of space-time.
The shade synonymous with
the vastness of the universe,
whose very name recognizes
that infinite possibilities lie
beyond our marble's glass dome.
But I hesitate to label
this shape of blue my favourite,
because it doesn't truly exist.
Its light is from
somewhere between gamma and radio waves,
but someplace beyond the visible spectrum.
Even if I were to gaze into the body of space
and check between each of night's sparkling eyes,
I would go blind,
and become nothing more
than old dirt on older ground
before I ever glimpsed this colour.
Well, yo ho ho and it is mutiny for us.
Toss the captain overboard, nothing to discuss.
We’ve had enough of orders, break the chain of commands.
If he wants to argue, there’s the back of your hand.
Sailing on the seven, hoist the sails ’gainst the wind.
We don’t need to navigate the coast.
Open up the bottles, drink the whiskey and gin.
To the health of Davy Jones we’ll toast.
Well, yo ho ho and now the treasure is all ours.
Gold and silver shining, can’t you feel the power?
The world is ours, me matey! Take it by the throat!
Nothing more can harm us, as long as we can float.
Sailing on the seven, the wind against our backs.
We don’t need to fear the captain’s ghost.
Cannon on our starboard! We’ll never pay the tax!
To the health of Davy Jones we’ll toast.
Well, yo ho ho, me matey, pass the bottle on.
We’ll take our turns at sipping ‘til it all is gone.
Feel the bitter burning as it slides down your throat
Then toss it on the fire so we can load the boats.
Sailing on the seven with chanteys on our lips,
Stay ahead of all the Navy hosts!
Keep a wary eye out for some rich merchants’ ships.
To the health of Davy Jones we’ll toast.
SAILING TO GLORY
You can't rock my boat;
God’s my captain and rutter:
I am smooth sailing:-
Bittersweet falls the moonless night
when perfumed whispers ride the westward breeze
~ sails find their way home
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2025
BUOYANCY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A boat drifts softly, hull like a feathered whisper, tracing sky and sea.
In its wake, a gentle sigh—clarity in the vast blue.
Buoyant, I drift free, the weight of time slips away.
Crystal waters gleam. My thoughts thoughts dart like fish in the deep.
The boat softly sways. Joy, a vessel on this sea, carries me onward.
I sail forth, heart wide open, sailor of my own delight.
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