In our quiet refuge, a wild clamor rings,
Waves relentlessly pound our fragile haven's wings.
A hidden portal, glimpsed through faith's bright gleam,
Offers escape from this tumultuous, watery dream.
We are shepherds adrift on the sea's vast expanse,
Some clinging to icy peaks, others finding warmth in the dance
Of currents below. Our flock, a fragile hope, we keep,
Guiding them through darkness, while we ourselves weep.
From above, a familiar sight unfolds,
Warm waters teeming, life's vibrant story told.
A creature sighted, a beacon of hope's embrace,
Faith is reborn, finding solace in this watery space.
The shepherds find haven, their flock safe at last,
A beacon of hope, a future built to last.
I was sailing alone
in the stormy sea of life,
Sullen thoughts invaded my mind
Dark waves lashed my heart
Until you came aboard,
lost at sea, my soul found the shore.
Chasing the wayward wind
I see its footprints
on the waves of the sea,
I rope in these wild waves
and tethered them to the shore.
Unable to break free
they lash and squirm
like the fish out of water
and roar like the caged lion.
The sea whines and whimpers
as I contained its spirit
like the genie in a bottle.
Oh, I now sit by the seaside
and wait for some seafarer
to take me across…
For yonder dwells my love,
a love I seek, a love I yearn.
Seafarer sat by the turbulent sea
Watching the offing and watching the waves;
Smiling with small teeth, the color of tea
Recalling journeys and the friends he’d made;
Photographs earmarking the good ole days,
The mariner clutched inside his hands
He long for the billows, brine, and the glade -
To brave the waves on his boat once again
“Clarice and I, sailed the seven seas!”
He’d boast to beachgoers every day
Vivid tales, made him a celebrity
As he talked about quests in lands far away
The people convened at summer’s end
To make the seafarer’s wish come true
They repaired the sailor’s battered friend -
So he could return to the oceans blue
Seafarer sat on the turbulent sea
Watching the offing and watching the waves;
Smiling with small teeth, the color of tea
Recalling journeys and the friends he’d made;
Once a Seafarer
I was thinking of my life as a seafarer endless
voyaging like a gipsy of the seas.
It was the best of times because I was young
but was also the worst of times being without
a woman for months on end.
I was a lousy seaman really didn`t blend in
Preferred reading in my cabin and got a higher
education without trying or knowing it, yes
I`m grateful to so many writers they gave my life
a meaning on the ocean of colossal ennui.
I came alive when the ship docked, and I could go
ashore, cold lone star beer in Houston and
dance with a cowgirl or a midnight swim with
a woman in Honduras.
As I got older little could assuage my boredom
the drink became both friend and enemy, washed up
on the shore of Portugal, here I got up drank a cold
beer built my house on solid earth and dreams.
Never not what it started as; with no promises handed. Backs watched properly; when needed and/or convenient.
Thinking on universal time and ten year calendars. Air heavy with spice, salt crisp on my lips.
Eyes blinded by stars
Ex. Seafarer
As a former seafarer, I have been to most countries that
have a harbour, but I have not been to Nepal or Tibet and
I have never wished to meet the great Lama a man wearing
handmade boots. Once in Japan I went to the movie and
heard John Wayne speaking Japanese, I laughed out loud
and was politely asked to leave.
There was a time when I thought of settling in Costa Rica
but it didn’t work out a love story gone awry; no not so
it was too far from Europe and there was much more to see.
I lived in the industrial belt of North/west of England for
a time and never got used to the social life of pubs, where
it appeared to me people took pride of being ignorant.
I live in Portugal now, we sometimes drive to the coast and
ogle the tourists who pay too much for everything.
Like an endless curve I have reached the bend
Of my destiny to an atmosphere,
Above the horizon, my trails ascend.
Creatures of water swerving their tails,
Galleons roll, cruises of Atlantis
Along the foams, brave the olden fables.
The evening cloudline, glimmering so bright,
My final pilgrimage, the blackest sea;
To the ledge of the isle, a glorious light.
In episodes, I have seen the view of life,
A seafarer hunted by brazen tides,
Crossing again on the crest that abides.
Peaceful wavelets daring my calm inside,
Confronting the ocean of a dark ride.
The Islands Contest
courtesy of Anthony Slausen
N.Arana's entry
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