“If the wind will not serve, take the oars” ~ Latin Proverb
When the gale turns deaf to the compass card,
And the sail hangs limp as a poet’s soul,
We do not wait for the whistling lard,
Nor pray to the breeze for a distant goal.
We ship the silk, and we grease the palms,
With oars carved out of our grandpas’ teeth,
Rowing through oceans of ticking calms,
And skies of velvet that yawn beneath.
The ocean turns to a marmalade sea,
While jellyfish hum an electric tune,
We row with a furious, frantic glee,
To park our barge on the silver moon.
For what is a zephyr but airborne gold?
And what is a tempest but ego’s draft?
We carry the tides in a chalice of old,
And steer with the madness of watercraft.
So spit in the face of the static air!
”If the wind will not serve, take the oars,”
The currents obey when the fools do dare.
”And muscle their way when the inner heart soars.”
I rented a child's inflatable watercraft
(in other words, a rubber raft)
and ran 'cross rocks broken by God's hand
(in other words, the sand)
to catch the moon's ocean tidal slave
(in other words, a wave).
That's the end of my metaphorical allegory
(in other words, my story).
Widened lips in an inert ligneous watercraft, fervent eyes gazing the moon,
Her mane of aureate intriguing hair in a wintry night, the dark cranium of a dainty loon.
Unblemished ivory gown glistering under the umbra of gleaming stars, wondrous quietness of the prodigious forest.
Benign fog over the serene skin of a highland tarn, beautifying the panorama as a fragrant florist.
A fugitive moment's princess, the waterscape peculiarly blithesome,
A dream breathing itself out of wisdom, am I earnestly painting a poem?
Amber-brown sea oats stand tall -
whistling as ocean breezes gently
blow them in unchartered directions
Voluminous waves impact into jetty rocks
inducing sea urchins to lose their tight grip
from a place of safeness
Watercraft rock recklessly in
turbulent waters. Fishing lines
snap as hopes of a good day's
catch are quickly diminished,
while winds grow intensly
& skies darken to an eerie black
Fears of a possible funnel cloud
now begin to form in reality
Anchors are regained as boat captains'
gear themselves towards safety upon
these waters, aspiring towards
safer havens as ferocity passes
As quickly as darkness has appeared,
radiant rays of sunlight penetrate greyness
of clouds, cutting into glistening waters
like a silver bladed knife cuts thru many
layers of a wedding cake
Life returns to slower pace of normalcy
as a large sea turtle surfaces catching
a bit of solar warmth cast upon this
magnificant world of azure water
Sea oats now stand erect, like small
soldiers protecting their beach,
restrengthening -
for the next tumultous reign
of inclement weather
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.