Alone with fifty men six months at sea
torture, this womanless monotony
after lusty dreams
follow lurid schemes
curvaceous manatees look good to me
©8/1/2018
for –Sea Tales Limericks – Poetry Contest
Nature calls from under bush.
Rain floods from the sky.
Wet grass soaks my feet.
Wind carry me as the cold
freezes me to the bone.
Branches scratch my limbs.
Thorns pearce my flesh.
Mountains bang against my
knees.
When i cry.
When i cry angels hear my
pain.
Foodless stomach, sleepless
eyes.
Womanless groin
Angels hear when i cry.
Dry thoart, dry tears, cracked
lips, crying spoiled baby
sounds.
Head on the ground
Angels hear when i cry.
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